The Adventures of a Dragonborn: For King and Skyrim
by Systemfel
Summary: Aurora leaves for Windhelm to rescue a Guild member from prison, but is busted and ends up with two choices: prison or playing the role of a lost maiden. She is taken to meet Ulfric, after what a new adventure unfolds. Is a sequel to 'The Adventures of a Dragonborn'. Rated M for sexual themes and violence.
1. A thief issue

**This is a sequel to "The Adventures of a Dragonborn". I really recommend you to have read the first of you are taking on this since, well, basically it is obvious. I said I'd post this one in mid-December, but I couldn't wait :) The next update will take a while, though.**

* * *

"Karlilah!" she exclaimed as the door to Breezehome flew open. "It's good to see you!"

Aurora knew Karlilah was not a hugger, so she decided to keep her distance. Closing the door behind her, she took a few steps towards the fire pit and sat down in the free chair.

"Indeed, although I'd hoped it would be under different conditions." Her voice sounded very concerned. The Imperial's heart rate went up, and the anxiety washed over her. She bit her lip and looked on her sister-in-crime.

"What happened?"

"We have a problem, and I wouldn't go to you if I thought we could handle this ourselves." Her gaze was flickering. "A fortnight ago, we learned about an alleged collection of rare, flawless diamonds kept in the dungeons of the Palace of the Kings. We sent out best lockpickers there, but it was a trap. We're not even sure the collection actually exists, and now Vipir and Vex are held prisoners. I'd go myself, but I'm not very good at lockpicking, and there will be a lot of that..."

That was not exactly what she anticipated. Well, at least no one was dead. Brynjolf had not decided to take the same path as Mercer... All right, this was the third worst thing that could have happened. Not that she found any type of joy to the situation, but in all honesty, she was more than happy to escape Whiterun, even if it only was for a few days. A new adventure was exactly what she needed. Her mind had to be somewhere else; she would not have made it through otherwise. The sensation of having loved and lost killed her from within... It took her a few minutes to mentally return to the conversation before she asked:

"What's the plan?"

Karlilah cleared her throat. "You will dress up as a noblewoman and pretend you're there to see Ulfric. You shall sneak down to the dungeon and free Vex and Vipir. I'll meet you outside of the castle."

Aurora got up from the chair and started walking around, nervously. The sheer extent of the problem was overwhelming. There were so many things that could go wrong. It was best not to think at all. The thought of breaking into the Windhelm prison... It was almost worse than the Thalmor embassy, only thing was, she already experienced that type of excitement, and she was not keen on repeating it.

"Let's go, Aurora."

Karlilah was already by the door when the Imperial turned around. She nodded absent-mindedly.

* * *

There were about two hours left until darkness would fold over Skyrim when the companions got their first glimpse of the town. A bitter sense of coldness hung in the air. It was not just the northern air – there was more to it. It was the first time Aurora had ever seen the town, and she took a certain disliking to it. It was not all like her beloved Whiterun, no, it was harsh. Difficult living conditions. The walls seemed so high and dark, imprisoning the ones living there.

"I'll take another way into the town. You go straight ahead." Aurora's thoughts were interrupted by the older woman.

"Why?" she asked, surprised.

"Don't you know? Elves aren't exactly welcome in Ulfric's town."

There was resentment in her voice and expression. Worry too. Never had she seen Karlilah in this state before. That may have been due to the fact that they had only known each other for about a year, and Aurora being unfamiliar with the life the woman had lived before, she thought, but it still worried her. Karlilah always knew what had to be done. A life on the run had made her that way.

"Ready?" Karlilah asked.

Aurora nodded, once again very absent-mindedly. The older woman jumped off her horse and bound it to a tree whilst thinking of something. Noticing that her companion had not moved an inch, she asked her:

"You haven't eaten anything, are you not hungry?"

The Imperial jerked. "Oh... no, I'm not. I'll do fine with a little water."

Probably the nerves, Karlilah thought. It was not a risk-free mission she was sending the youngling onto. She still needed her energy, though. The trip had lasted one and a half days, and losing another member due to mistakes committed by hunger was not acceptable. Brynjolf would kill her if something went wrong. Especially with Aurora.

She swallowed her anxiety and gave the Imperial a package. Her reaction worried Karlilah even more – there was none. She hit the younger woman with it on the leg before she turned her gaze on it.

"Take this on."

"Why?"

"You can't wear an armour to Ulfric, are you mad?"

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't thinking..."

Nocturnal, give her strength. She was not focused at all. That really made edgy. Had she known better, she would have called off the operation at once, but she was desperate. The Guild needed Vex and Vipir back – before they would have their heads chopped off.

* * *

She could get used to it – wearing dresses. The one on her body was a cheap imitation of what a real lady would wear, but it would do for the mission, she thought. Something felt wrong, though. She was defenceless without so much as a dagger in her trousers.

The walk to the palace was a nervous one, what was a good thing. During their entire journey, she had not given so much as a thought on what lay ahead. She just could not. The thoughts of _him_ were pushing everything else away. Everything vital for survival.

There was barely any life left in her. Every morning, she cursed destiny for keeping her breathing even though every cell in her body told her it was better not to. She was superfluous in her own existence. What she went through could by no means be classified as 'life' – it was nothing more than survival.

A voice in the back of her head said it was best like that. It did not matter if she was successful with this mission, not for her. The responsibility for others, that was another thing. The only thing that made it worth putting in an effort.

It was cold, and goose bumps were forming on her arms. There was a trace of nervousness, a small glimpse of normal life. It almost made her ecstatic. For a fortnight, she had not felt anything but melancholy and indolence, but there it came! A butterfly was awake. Not completely, but it made a small wing movement – enough to wake the woman out of her hibernation.

Parts of her remembered how a mission of this type should be done. Walking up to the guards, she had an almost confident look. It took her a few moments to realise it was the wrong role she was playing.

"Oh, hello. I'm miss... ehm..."

The guards did not look as they cared. With an expression of annoyance, they opened the heavy doors to the empty hall.

It was beautifully decorated, Aurora thought. A long table occupied most of the centre of the room. That was her chance. With a leap, she threw herself to the right side of it, hiding behind the tablecloth. There were a few doors to choose from. Damn it! Karlilah had told her where to go, but she had not listened. It would have to be trial and error then.

She chose the first door to the right and made a run for it. Distant voices were heard from somewhere else, so it seemed as a good choice to pick the silent door. It was heavy and made a horrible sound when opened. The hinges were ancient based on the squeak.

Carefully, she closed it. She let it take its time. The woman was not nervous, but she had to admit, it was exciting to be a thief again. Having exchanged her heavy boots for soft shoes, she made almost no sound whilst moving. The dress made it easier too.

Eager to proceed, she held a rather quick pace, almost running into a crowded barrack. By the Nine! They were everywhere! Kneeling down, she counted four guarding soldiers and three sleeping ones. The hall was very spacious, something she had to take advantage of. The beds were situated on the right side, and the tables where two of the patrolling guards sat by, were on the left.

The discipline was rather bad, though. They were not too coordinated, opening up a possibility for Aurora to sneak by to the beds whilst both had their backs toward her. With a roll, she ended up beneath one of the beds, thanking Nocturnal for her luck. Holding her breath, she listened for the continuing steps of the patrollers.

She advanced slowly, but effectively. The guards sitting by a table were eating, not focusing on the movement on the right side of the room. The difficult part came when she got to the last bed.

When entering the hall, she had the advantage of speed when she rolled beneath the first bed, but now, she had to do it from a harder position.

Waiting for the guards to have their back against her, she peeked out, only to regret it a second later. The soldier furthest away from her raised himself slightly from the chair, looking at her direction. Holding her breath, she saw him gaze around, only to ignore it.

Aurora could admit, her heart rate increased. There was no time to lose. She got up on her knees next to the sleeping soldier and rolled towards the open vault.

"What was that?" she could hear one of the guards asking.

Then came silence. That awful, nervous silence. The atmosphere changed drastically. Before she could think, she turned around and leapt forwards, only to be met by corridors. Corridors leading everywhere.

Almost panicking, she ran a few steps forwards. There were possible turns to almost every direction, and she got lost a few times. None seemed to lead her to Vex and Vipir.

Turning right in Gods know where, she heard the steps of another guard. The corridor split in two, ahead was nothing but darkness, but to the left she saw a fire.

There it was! The end of the corridor. Only one guard stood between her and the rescue of her siblings-in-crime. Throwing herself to the floor, she prepared the lockpick and inserted it. She only had seconds before the guard would turn back around the wall and see her. Aurora pushed it to the right, but at no position would the stupid lock move! Bigger angle, smaller one, nothing worked. Realising it was hopeless, she went back with only moments to spare before the guard emerged behind the other wall. The run up the stairs had made her lose her breath, making her worried that someone would hear her. It did not happen, though. The guard soon turned away, and Aurora went for the stairs once more.

This time, she was successful on her first try. The lock was positioned at a sharp angle to the left.

Walking into the compartment, she noticed how difficult it was to breathe. The air was moist and warm, and the stank! A half-dead prisoner was situated in the first cell. Aurora threw a quick gaze at him, but they were not familiar.

"Over here!"

"Vipir! Where's Vex?"

"I don't know. I can't see her from here. Haven't heard her since they arrested us!"

"Stay calm, I'll get you out."

Kneeling down, she took a new lockpick and struggled with the lock. It was very good at its job, protecting the outside world from criminals like her...

"Aurora! Behind..."

It was too late. When she got up, a man was already looking at her. A guard, damn it! He seemed to be as surprised to see her as she was to watch him.

"What are you doing here, miss?"

Her first instinct was to take a leap and cut him to the ground, but she figured she would not be able to do it quickly enough for him not to have time to scream for help. Her only option was to play along with her role of a maiden.

"Oh... I... I was just. I got lost. I thought the dungeons..."

"Another stupid young girl. It is not interesting down here! There are convicted criminals. Dangerous criminals!"

"I'm sorry... I won't..."

The soldier watched her suspiciously. His gaze went from her all but innocent face to her, what seemed as, elegant clothing.

"What are you doing in the castle anyway?"

"I was invited... by the Jarl."

"We shall see."

The guard stretched for something placed on the right side of the entrance. Moments later, the sound of a ringing bell filled the room. Aurora threw a worried look at Vipir who had taken a few steps back in his cell. This was it then. She was to rot in this godsforsaken place.

What seemed as ages later, a man with a funny hat and even funnier moustache arrived. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he bore a very angry look.

"Who are you?"

"Oh..."

"You don't look Nord to me. Imperial."

Aurora had no chance to answer before being interrupted. Doing her best to look ashamed, she watched the floor. The red-brown boots of the man in front of her was a good focus point.

"Em... yes. Imperial," she answered.

"Guess you'll have to do."

That was a very strange thing to say to someone he was about to condemn to the axe. Perplexed, Aurora raised her gaze to his legs and chest, trying to figure out if he was some kind of steward or not.

"Sorry?"

"You said you were supposed to meet the Jarl. I'm the one taking care of his schedule, and I have no memory of him 'meeting' with someone today. I thought your father sent you to..."

"Yes! My father sent me here. I'm... Um... Prepared."

"Good, then I'll send for a servant to make you a bath."

"A bath?"

"The Jarl likes his women clean."

With that, he turned around and disappeared. With her heart beating fast, she could only think: Dear Gods. What had she gotten herself into?


	2. Busted

She followed the steward through the gate, which she just minutes earlier had put her heart and soul into to open. The sensation of complete hopelessness came upon her. There was no alternative. Would she not do this, then Gods know what would have happened to her and her siblings-in-crime.

Thankfully, the man in front of her did not ask any questions. They would have been very difficult to answer. How would she have explained how she had passed the hall without anyone noticing? No, it was best the way it played out – that he said nothing to her at all.

The path back seemed to go much faster than the one there. Perhaps due to them not getting lost half of the time, but still. The seconds could not go any faster than they already did. In minutes, just a few minutes, she would have no way to escape at all.

Once they reached the main hall, the man with the moustache approached a maiden and turned around to face Aurora. Without uttering a word, she followed the woman, who appeared to be in her early thirties. A red-head. Flaming hair.

She took Aurora through endless stairs and corridors, giving her a possibility to make up her mind about the architecture of the place. It was nothing she had ever seen before. Brutal in a way, beautiful in another. The large, stone bricks created a hard and cold sensation about the floor, but the soft fabrics gave it a more feminine touch. They indeed had their own sense of style here in Windhelm.

"In here, please," said the older woman as they stopped in front of a door.

Aurora opened it and discovered the most magnificent bathroom she had ever seen. The floor had smaller tiles than in the rest of the castle, the walls had a warmer tone to them and in the ceiling, a beautiful chandelier hung. Curtains and candlesticks decorated the room, and a very expensive bathtub stood in the middle of it.

The water was not particularly warm, though. In fact, it was freezing.

She lay there, in the cold water, trying her best to gather her thoughts. She had no perception of Ulfric. She did not know his good sides, and... worse. That time, about a year ago – in Helgen, no... in the forests just outside of Helgen. That was the first and only time they had ever met. He was a looker, she could grant him that. He seemed brave, too. For all she could remember, he was a good man, but the things she had heard from Karlilah seemed contradictory.

The maiden certainly had no intentions of letting Aurora relax in the bathtub. As soon as she finished soaping in her body, the maiden had her leave. Her clothes were not returned to her, but taken away. Worried that the lockpicks would fall out from the hidden pockets, Aurora asked to have it left on a chair. The maiden obeyed.

Aurora was given just a mantle to wear, but the trip to the Jarl's private chamber was not long. Walking up the stairs was still cold, though. Aurora's naked feet felt as if they would turn blue and fall off, so she became immensely annoyed with the maiden, who walked the pace of someone who was about to be executed. The Imperial had gotten over the initial shock of the bizarre situation she had ended up in, and begun to accept it.

A part of her still thought she had the ultimate chance of ending the civil war by being given the opportunity to meet the Jarl alone in a far-away chamber. Quickly, she shredded the thought to pieces. She had nothing to say of the war. She was just an Imperial who had no right to dictate anything about the lives of the Nord Skyrim. Anyway, hundreds of Nord women would give anything for a night with him... It could not be too bad, could it?

The maiden opened the door and almost pushed Aurora into the chamber, after what she closed the door and disappeared. Being alone in the large, cold room felt awkward. Turning around, she noticed the most vulgar bed she had ever seen before. It was raised as on a scene with three steps leading to it. Three fanes of Windhelm hung above the bed, which had a dark green cover. A fireplace hid behind the bedstead, and even though it was lit, the chamber was rather cold. Thankfully, the floor was made of wood, and not of stone like in the rest of the castle.

Not knowing what she was supposed to do, she walked around and inspected the wide collection of books. By the Gods, he had no specific taste of them at all. The different genres included everything from scientific works, to historic novels, to... romantic fiction. Standing on the tip of her toes, she reached _The Mystery of Talara_ volume 1. Talara? She had heard that name before, the woman knew that for sure, but she could not remember the context.

Hearing steps outside of the door, she quickly put it down and swept the mantle around her chest. It was rather big, about a foot longer than Aurora, dark green and made of a soft fabric she had never worn or even known before. Black lilies decorated the shoulder and chest parts of it. It was rather beautiful, the woman thought.

Deciding to make a dramatic impression, Aurora placed herself in front of one of the windows and turned her head slightly to the left, looking down. If he was putting on a spectacle with servants, cold water and nervous anticipation, so would she.

The door handle made a sound as it was pushed downwards, and the hinges squeaked loudly. So much for a dramatic entrance, Aurora thought. Suppressing a giggle, she turned her body slightly and looked at him.

Even with her heart somewhere else, she could not deny the fact that he left an impression on her. At first, she noticed the way he was dressed; a silvery jacket with leather details decorated his chest, and a warm coat with fur details on the shoulders and along the length made him look the Jarl he was.

She raised her gaze and was stunned by the grey eyes looking back at her. He seemed surprised somehow. Probably her little trick paying off. The blonde hair was pushed backwards with two braids on either side of his face. His cheekbones were probably the most beautiful she had ever seen on a man.

"My Jarl," she said and made a quick curtsey.

He placed a finger on his plump lips and shut the door behind him without taking the eyes off the woman in front of him. He stepped towards her slowly, almost gently, but each step left an echo on the floor.

When he was just behind her, he placed a hand on her stomach and smelled her hair. With the other, he then pushed it over to her right shoulder. She could feel the warmth from his body, and the light touch of his fingers on her neck made her a little dizzy. Suddenly remembering where was and why made her tearful. With all her heart, she wished for the Jarl to be someone else. The touch of his hands were gentle and calming, but they were not the hands of a man she loved. This was not the time, though. She closed her eyes and pressed the lids together as tightly as she could.

The man noticed and leaned over her left shoulder with his head. Softly and silently, he whispered to her:

"Don't be afraid."

The woman was breathing heavily and felt it slightly difficult to calm down. To force herself into a calmer state, she opened her eyes and placed her hands on the one that was resting on her stomach. Apparently pleased, the Jarl tenderly pushed her around to face him. He was about a head taller than her, and Aurora was looking at his chest. Both of his hands were on her lower back, pulling her closer to him. Slowly looking up, she noticed his short beard, which was a few nuances darker than his hair. His mouth was slightly opened, and he was breathing through it. His nose was of considerate size, but it did not decrease his beauty.

Suddenly, he removed his hands from her back and placed his hands on her chest whilst undoing the buckles form the mantle. Exposing a few inches of her chest, stomach and private parts made Aurora gasp for breath. Feeling his gaze explore her naked skin raised her heartbeat. His eyes were half closed when admiring her, and when he was no longer pleased just seeing the parts of her peeking out from beneath the mantle, he let it fall to the ground. This time he too had to gasp for air. A few seconds later, he began to undress.

"A man has needs, girl," he said with a deep but silent voice without looking at her. "A woman pleases him by letting him penetrate the hole she has between her legs. That is my intention to do right now." Breathing heavily, he nearly tore off his jacket, gauntlets and tunic. They fell to the floor with a loud 'bang'. Finding the Jarl's need to explain the situation ridiculous made Aurora in a good mood.

When exposing his chest, he looked down on the woman in front of him. Unpleased with her just standing there, he forced her to the bed. It was harder for him to control himself, Aurora noted. He had been very gentle until that very moment when the need had grown stronger. Obeying, she laid down on her back in the middle of the bed. She let her feet support the weight of her legs and kept her knees together.

The Jarl unbuttoned his trousers and kicked his boots off. Whilst removing the pants, he made his erection very apparent. His loincloth did not extend all the way back, meaning there was merely some fabric to hide his manhood. As he moved around whilst undressing, the loincloth failed its purpose and slid to the side, exposing everything holy to a man.

Damn those Nords! The Jarl was not as large as Vilkas, but she realised it would still hurt slightly as she was not completely aroused. This obviously not being the first time, made Ulfric aware of the woman's anxiety.

"It might hurt a little," he mumbled.

Removing the bad excuse of a loincloth, he too got up in bed. He stood on his knees in front of her and placed his right hand on her knees. Whilst admiring the view, he pressed it between them and let his hand slide between her legs, separating them. When she spread her legs for him, he took his manhood in his left hand and leaned forwards.

The weight of him warmed her, but her nerves were still playing with her. His behaviour made her insecure as he thought her to be inexperienced with men. She knew there was nothing to fear – that it would hurt at first but be good later, yet she was breathing heavily due to nervousness.

Suddenly, she felt his tip inside her. He forced the rest of him inside, making Aurora arch her back and try to escape backwards, towards the wall. Groaning, the Jarl then began to push back and forth.

* * *

"That's a good girl," he groaned. "Just don't fall asleep. I might wish for your presence later."

Again?! Aurora thought. The intercourse had been good, she could not complain, but she was absolutely exhausted. It was a royal fuck by all means, and he sure had a lot of stamina to continue for as long as he did. She still needed energy for completing the mission she was sent to succeed with, though.

"What about tomorrow?" she asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

The Jarl had lain down next to her. His eyes were closed and he was still breathing heavily. His warmth was leaving her, making her feel somewhat used. Not that it was strange to feel that way, she thought. That was exactly what it was – a Jarl using the maidens in his town. On the other hand, perhaps she needed it as much as he did. It had been almost a month for her, and she did not remember how much she needed it before experiencing it once again.

"I only share my bed with women once," he said with a slightly annoyed tone.

"Why?" escaped her mouth before she had time to think about it.

He sighed and turned his head to face her, still lying on his stomach. "Because, you womenfolk are only bearable before you get confident in bed."

That was not an answer she anticipated. Who in Tamriel liked maidens? She certainly did not like inexperienced men. This was something completely new to her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, at first you are nervous. 'Is it going to hurt? Will I change?'" he sarcastically exclaimed. "The first time someone sees you without clothes... Then, you little bastards, you learn to love it. You can't have enough of it, and it has to be on your conditions. 'Kiss me here, lick me there, caress my breasts'... I have no time for that. That's why I only do maidens."

Aurora laughed whole-heartedly at his explanation. That was the most ridiculous thing she ever heard someone saying. "I am no maiden..." she giggled and added "my Jarl."

"Typical modern Nobility. Promiscuous ladies! What happened to the old fashioned values?" he smiled.

"You're not the right person to speak of values!" She said, still with a glimpse in the eye. "My Jarl," she added.

The man next to her rose himself slightly, unable to believe the words escaping his subject's lips. "I am Jarl of Windhelm and soon to be High King of Skyrim..."

"Sure, just a _tiny_ problem – if you manage to magically erase all the Imperial soldiers patrolling all over your country."

Silence followed for a while. Ulfric turned around and leaned against the bedframe. "I _will_ erase them. Every single one." There was much more seriousness to his voice.

"Good luck with that – it will _probably_ happen," Aurora said ironically.

"Are you doubting me and my cause?!"

"Just you."

"How dare you?" He exclaimed, upset for a woman inadvertedly calling him a failure.

"Sorry! I mean – just you, my Jarl." She could not help it, but a laughter escaped her once more, and the woman was not able to stop herself.

"Who are you to judge my army, you oblivious, spoiled little brat? By Talos, you really are intolerable..."

Still laughing, Aurora proceeded:

"Oh, about that. I am no Nobility. I'm a traveller and a warrior."

At first, he was stunned. The grey eyes widened, giving him a rather peculiar look. Then came the laughter.

"A warrior? You!? You couldn't handle a skeever!"

Upset with his doubt, Aurora exclaimed:

"I bet you I could handle an army of them."

"Really?"

"Yes, my Jarl."

The grin on his face faded and he silenced. Obviously thinking about something, he was not moving at all.

"Fine," he said after a while. "I bet you to travel to Serpentstole Isle."

A challenge? Now he had her listening.

"What's that?"

"It's where men have tested their mettle for ages. There's a strange rock formation, built by the ancients. Something about that place that attracts the Ice Wraths."

"What will I gain from it?" Aurora crossed her arms and made an equivalent facial expression.

"A Jarl's respect."

"Is it that easy to gain your respect? Then you _are_ a small man."

"Won't do it, then? Coward."

"I am no coward, and I'll show you."

"Good. And you can pick up some potions of cold-resisting on the way out."

"I don't need those!"

"As I said, oblivious little girl. You're an Imperial. You don't have any natural frost resistance."

"I don't need any, my Jarl."


	3. Serpentstone isle

Aurora had some difficulties locating her dress, but found it in a room outside of the Jarl's. She had left his room immediately after their conversation. That would be her only chance to free the Guild members, the woman figured. It was night, and the majority of the guards would be asleep. The ones patrolling were probably very tired, making it perfect timing for her to strike a hit.

She was right – there was not even a single guard doing his job. Tip-toeing across the hall where tired soldiers were resting, she managed not to awake anyone. Remembering the way through the narrow corridors, Aurora got there rather quickly. Before freeing Vipir, she went to look for Vex. She was found in another set of cells.

A sleepy Vex was mumbling something in her sleep. The woman was lying on a pile of straw, clearly uncomfortable. It did not take much to awake her.

"Quiet, Vex. I'll get you out this time."

The blonde woke up, very happy to see her sister-in-crime. Her lock was not especially difficult to pick, so Aurora had it over with in about a minute.

"Vex, will you take care of Vipir whilst I find a way out?" Aurora whispered and handled her some lockpicks. "He's out there, first left, then second right."

"Sure," the older woman said and set off.

Aurora got up and looked around. Another exit was nowhere to be seen, at least not from that room. She hurried out to the corridor and examined the possible ways, but they led her nowhere. After a few minutes of searching, she heard the voices of her fellow Guild members.

"What are you doing?" Vipir whispered with an annoyed tone.

"I'm looking for another exit."

"There is only one! This way!" he ordered, still hissing.

It was not much help since she already walked that path thrice before, but at least she could warn the others before entering the hall full of sleeping soldiers.

The small group crawled underneath the beds to minimalize visible movement, and did so perfectly. When reaching the other side, their only remaining problem was the guards outside of the entrance door.

Aurora walked out first. It was very cold, and her dress did not do much to keep her warm. On the other hand, it did much to enhance her bosom. Hoping it would be enough to keep the guards attention, she approached them. Dear Gods, she was awful at keeping up discussions with random people, but she tried her best.

"Excuse me. Would you please inform me where I could get a room for the night?"

One of the soldiers was rather young – perhaps a year or two younger than Aurora. He was easy to control since he did everything to help her, but the other one was not equally impressed. He threw a chilly gaze at his companion and mumbled something about doing their job. Panicking, she said

"The Jarl... Em, Ulfric... he asked to have his door guarded tonight, but I could not find any soldier in the main hall..."

"Are those two icebrains asleep again? I'll show them..." Without another word, he turned around to enter through the left door.

Relieved, Aurora turned with her back towards the older soldier and took a few steps back. Trying to put on a seductive expression but failing miserably, she did not notice a small section of the stone ground which was placed a little higher than its neighbours. Well, at least falling to the ground attracted the young man's attention once more. Whilst he helped her up, her two companions sneaked out through the door just in time to avoid being seen by the second guard entering the palace.

She could not believe their luck, and promised to thank Nocturnal later. Quickly abandoning the guard, she set foot after her siblings-in-crime. Freezing, she sprinted towards the inn quicker than she had ever run before.

Vex and Vipir were waiting for her just outside with their hoods covering their faces in shadows.

"Karlilah isn't here. We're on our own," Vex said.

Aurora was not anticipating her sister-in-crime. Far too many hours had passed since they parted ways.

"What do we do then?" the young Imperial asked.

"I think we should find her. I doubt that she went back to Brynjolf without you. Karlilah has friends on the Grey Quarter. Let's go there," Vipir said.

Navigating through the town was considerably easier with the help of her companions. They moved towards the western part of Windhelm, close to where the docks were situated. Windhelm had impressed her until recently with its beautiful architecture and well-kept streets, but the Grey Quarter was absolutely revolting. There was mud and trashes everywhere, the facades were in very bad condition. Obviously, this area was poor, but other towns tried to keep all its areas clean. In here, it seemed as if nobody cared.

They approached a rather wide house with two pillars and torn flags. Above the entrance, "New Gnisis Corner Club" was carved into a piece of wood. Vex looked around to see if anyone was looking, after what she entered.

The club was almost empty, but Aurora noted that all of the guests were Elven. Even though it seemed wide from outside, the inside told a completely different story. There was barely anywhere to sit, and the only table was occupied by Karlilah.

"By the Gods! I thought we lost you all! What happened?" she whispered when they sat down.

"I was busted," Aurora said.

Vex got up and ordered some food, complaining that she had not been given anything to eat for days. Vipir quickly got up to help her for some reason. Karlilah did not seem to care. Instead she leaned forwards to Aurora.

"Did they imprison you?"

"No..." she answered whilst observing Vex and Vipir by the counter.

"Then what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Vex seemed very upset for some reason and was waving her arms around, complaining about something. Vipir stepped in and threatened the man working at the club.

"Don't pay Ambarys any attention. He is just as racist as those Stormcloaks. I'm much more interested in..."

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" she repeated, annoyed and upset.

Vex and Vipir returned, the woman grateful towards _the fleet_. Obviously, he had been there before and knew that the Dunmer would make trouble. They spoke of the event until the food arrived.

A rather disgusting piece of over cooked rabbit leg was served together with stone hard potatoes. Aurora almost threw up when looking at the plate presented before her. To avoid this, she gaze at Karlilah, who still had that curious look on her face. Aurora snapped.

"I _don't _want to talk about it! I did what you asked me to, now I'm free to go, right?"

Karlilah sighed whilst a hungry Vex and Vipir literally tore into the food. Slightly repelled by her siblings-in-crimes' table manners, the older woman continued:

"Well, yes... Are you going back to Whiterun?"

"No."

"Coming with us?"

"No. I'm staying here. I have a bet to take care of."

Karlilah watched her suspiciously but decided against saying something about the subject. Instead, she let it drop and pointed out that Aurora was not eating.

"I'm not hungry! Stop interrogating me!"

Annoyed and tired, Aurora left the Guild members and walked out.

She could not care less for a horse when she visited the stables where Karlilah left her armour and weapons. The island was close to Winterhold, but it would be a detour to visit the town – a detour she did not intend to take. Besides, the cold and unforgiving climate was far from optimized for a horse. The logistics would be far less exhausting to care for.

Her armour was not quite as she remembered it to be – it was not like a second skin to her anymore. In fact, it was more of trying to wear random bits and pieces of dwemer plates. Uncomfortable and heavy, the armour was far from perfect, but it had to do. She had not brought anything else with her from Whiterun, so there was no choice really.

Setting off in the middle of the night was a stupid idea, but she could not care less. Karlilah with all of her questions, Vex with her discussions with the owner of the inn, Vipir... It was too much at the same time. She knew them too well and they were too interested with her private life.

The question was what she should do upon her return to Windhelm. Of course, there was the possibility of going to Jorrvaskr, but Aurora could not think of a place she would like to avoid quite as much as the Companions' Hall. The thought of seeing Vilkas with Ria or somebody else was too much to handle, even from miles away. To go back home would be pure sadism and self-torture.

The Guild was always glad to welcome her back, but again – Vex, Karlilah and Vipir. They would obviously tell everyone about her nightly adventure with the Jarl, something she wished for to stay private. Also, she did not quite know how to behave around Brynjolf anymore.

A part of her found the Jarl incredibly intriguing. He was all the warrior Farkas or Vilkas were, but with a more open personality. Well, to be fair, Farkas was kinder than Ulfric. At least she thought so. As opposed to Vilkas, she could understand the Jarl, for he was not drenched in mystery. She could easily control him, and he would not hurt her, for she would not give him the tools to do so. Yet he possessed treats she found attractive in a man; he was decisive and strong. A warrior spirit, like her.

On the other hand, he had explained that he was not interested in further contact. Well, that would be up to him. She could always find a man to keep her bed warm somewhere else, and she would have a broad variety to choose from.

Yes, the thought of staying in Windhelm seemed to be the most reasonable. The only thing she had to do was to kill some ice wraths, whatever that was. She imagined a huge, freezing monster that spread mass paralysis, with icy claws and hungry, lifeless eyes.

On the other hand, after handling dragons, lions and giant crabs, there was nothing that could stop her.

A fire was seen in the nightly landscape of Skyrim. It was soft and seemed to come from the middle of the road. Probably a patrolling soldier, Aurora thought. It felt safe to know that the area was protected from bandits and other criminals, but she felt for the poor man who had to walk the endless road between the two towns in the middle of the night.

A green aurora was seen in the sky, spreading like a blanket over the landscape and disappearing behind the mountain peaks. It was a beautiful sight, just as Skyrim was, but perhaps it was time for her to return to Cyrodiil. She would wait and see what this new adventure would unfold. Perhaps it was too early to return to her homelands.

"Excuse me, but how far is it to Winterhold from here?" she asked the young man when they passed by one another.

"About a day's walk," he said. "Stay safe, traveller."

Oh. It had been such a long time since someone called her a traveller. In Whiterun, she was famous for being a Companion and warrior, but no one addressed her by the title of 'traveller'. For some reason it felt good. It felt as if she was to be thrown into a new adventure.

The woman had walked for hours. She had to set up camp somewhere, but without so much as an axe to chop wood with, it was a dangerous thing to do. It was easy to freeze to death if not careful. Cursing herself for leaving in the middle of the night, she began her search for a shelter.

It was found about an hour later, when Aurora was exhausted. She had no twigs to make a fire with, so she had to look elsewhere for warmth. Sweeping her dress around her to keep at least a little of the body heat, she lay down on the rock floor. It took her ages to fall asleep, and she remembered how she and Vilkas solved the same problem when on a mission together. Damn. She missed him so much.

* * *

Her eyes were cried out when she woke up, and the cold made the tears freeze, causing soreness to the eyelids. She felt that she could not take much more of it anymore. It took her a great deal of energy to get up and continue her journey, for she was morally broken.

She hit herself hard on the cheeks and forbade her mind to think of him. Numbness was superior to the pain. She had a potential to a new life, Aurora thought, and she should take it instead of burying herself in old memories.

The final part of her trip to the Serpentstone isle was by far the worst in her life. Demoralized due to realising she had to swim, she undressed. The woman wore only her armour. Placing the shield and sword on her back and securing them with buckles, she jumped into the water.

It felt as thousands needles were perforating her skin. The armour was incredibly heavy and pulled her downwards, doing its best to drown her. She was weaker than before, and struggled with keeping her head above the waterline. Perhaps she should have taken those potions the Jarl offered.

When finally reaching the shoreline again, she barely had the energy to stand upright. She did not get much time to recover, though. Ice Wraths attacked her from every possible direction. Hiding behind her shield, she tried to figure out how much it would take to kill them all. To her surprise, it was much easier than she anticipated. It only took one or two strikes for the icy creatures to evaporate, leaving only a pile of ashes as evidence of previous existence.

Anger filled her when she realised how easy it was to slay them. That bastard had sent her all the way, into the ocean, and for what? Ice wraths.

* * *

**I'm ever so grateful for reviews, followers etc. Thank you, you make my day :)**


	4. A new Beginning

Against what she believed when leaving Windhelm, she was forced to stay at the local inn in Winterhold. It was getting dark and the woman was soaked. For the first time in ages, she felt angry. Mad, upset, annoyed, there were not enough words to describe the feeling that possessed her. She had made a name for herself in Whiterun, and a honourable one for the matter. Here, she had to build it up again, a process that could be long and tedious.

It was not fair to blame the Jarl, he could not possibly know better, yet she still found him insolent. He made it sound as such an important and honourable mission – probably patronising her. Biting her jaws together to avoid frightening Dagur with her temper and mood, she ordered ale and paid for a room.

Seeing the table where she had first leaned against him, feeling his heartbeat and sensing his warmth changed her mood drastically. A melancholic darkness once more fell upon her, strangling her spirit. At moments like those, she could not see a light at the end of the road. The emptiness, the woman let it embody her, hollowing her life. He had left her. He did not need her, rendering her unnecessary in her own life.

She drank and felt the delightful drops of the bitter ale. Soothing, it took her mind away to far happier thoughts. She ordered another bottle. Who needed merriment when they had Black-Briar mead?

* * *

She was smirking all the way to the Palace of the Kings. The woman felt superior, and very much done with everything in the eastern part of Skyrim. Aurora had decided, she would make a quick trip to Markarth and see if there was something there for her, but first, she would make an entrance worthy a Dragonborn.

She pulled the heavy door and entered the main hall. Her hair was wet due to the heavy rain outside. The last part of the journey was as amazing as it could be – thunder, rain and wind followed her since her overnight camp. She loved how nature managed to clean the air from time to time.

Confident steps led her to the strategy room. Just before turning around the corner, she heard voices and stopped, eavesdropping on the Jarl and a man who sounded to be quite a few years older than Ulfric.

"Tell me again why we're wasting time and dwindling resources chasing a legend. We don't even know it exists!" said the Jarl, obviously repeating himself.

"The Jarls are upset. They don't all support you."

The conversation ended, Aurora thought, for she could not hear any more words escaping either of the men's lips. Shaking the water off her, she stepped inside, whipping her hair from side to side.

Apparently, she had been erroneous. The two men were still leaning against the table and appearing to be in a heated discussion. It was too late to turn around and walk out of there, though, and she felt rather embarrassed to have interrupted what must have been an important meeting.

The Jarl's eyes widened as he saw her, and an apparent smile spread across his lips. He leaned backwards from the table.

"You're alive! I'm impressed."

Aurora looked at the other man. He was dressed in the most peculiar fashion. His boots had spikes pointing out to every direction, and she could not help but think that they must be very uncomfortable in battle. The armour he wore was a goldish red colour made from some kind of leather, and like the Imperials, he wore a kilt instead of trousers. The most peculiar thing was something else, though. On his head, he wore a bear. Literally.

She looked at his face for clues on his personality and found quite a few. He seemed very serious and straightforward. The man was probably a decade older than his master, but still in good physical shape.

"To be honest, I'm slightly disappointed," the woman answered coldly when the Jarl finally caught her attention again.

"Why so?"

"You put so little trust in my wits and strength that you send me to get some Ice Wrath. It's disrespecting and I won't have it. Here is your stupid teeth and essence. I'm leaving."

The woman threw the things she had mentioned on the table and watched the Jarl carefully whilst doing so. He did not tear his gaze from her the slightest, not even when the objects landed harshly on the wood and nearly rolled over the edge. Aurora smirked and turned around to leave. Just as she did so, however, the Jarl exclaimed:

"Wait!"

She stopped with a smile on her face. "What?" she asked, turning around once more.

"You'd look good in a Stormcloak uniform." He said so without any shame.

"I'd look good in anything," she teased him for his previous words.

He smirked and hid the corner of his mouth behind one of his hands, gesturing that he was thinking carefully. His eyes were half closed as he watched the woman in front of him. She could tell he was inspecting her, cherishing the look and admiring the view. His face was controlled, but his eyes were not.

"Oh, yes. But I'd prefer you in my armour," he said whilst taking a few steps closer towards her. He did it all so slowly, as flirtingly as when in bed.

She had a weak spot for men like him, and she could not deny herself a bit of flirting with the Jarl. She too took a few steps closer, placing herself just in front of him and letting her look flick between his chest and face.

"What's in it for me?" she almost whispered.

The blond man smiled. "Glory. Triumph. Gold."

She wrinkled her forehead and lowered her eyebrows. "I have enough of that already."

The woman touched his chest with her right index finger, making small circles on top of his jacket. She liked this kind of games more than almost anything else. The excitement was equal to slaying dragons or breaking into embassies. In fact, it was better, especially when she got the men where she wanted.

"Honour," he said, this time with a slight desperation in his tone. He found it to be slightly weak of her to be satisfied with what little glory and recognition she might have earned. To be honest, it was not for her abilities in battle or adventure he wanted to keep her, but this was of course not to be known to her. The man was intrigued by the thought of having a woman at his court which new a little swordfighting. The fact that she had wits was even better.

"The very reason I'll keep out."

He grabbed her hand very suddenly and held it in a hard grip inside of his own. His breath was heavier, and this time, he looked her directly in the eyes.

"How can I convince you to stay?"

"You probably can't, my Jarl," she said, trying to excuse herself.

He was not giving up, though, and made it very apparent. He pulled her closer by placing his free hand on her lower back.

"Try me. What do you want?"

She jerked her shoulders and smiled whilst looking down on the floor. "I don't know it myself."

The man released her hand and touched her chin, forcing it upwards. His eyes amazed her. He was an intelligent man, she judged it merely by his gaze, and he was probably a brave one too. The only thing she could hold against him was that Karlilah seemed to dislike him, and Aurora trusted her judgement.

"Then a fresh start might be appropriate."

He was very persuasive. Aurora laughed at it, and immediately felt that she was in a better mood than she had been for a long time. The man in front of her sure knew how to make her smile

"Oh, come on! Have you no mercy?" he complained with a glimpse in the eye.

Aurora thought for a moment. Until a few minutes ago, she had been angry with him for sending her out on that silly mission, but now it was as if she had forgotten it.

"Fine. I'll stay," she finally said, "but I won't join your little gang of rebellion. I'm here on my own."

He released her but still had that seductive gaze. Aurora looked around and realised she had forgotten about the fact that the older man still was present. Slightly embarrassed she looked at the Jarl again.

"I have arranged for a room to be made free."

"You are overconfident of your success, my Jarl."

"So far, I've been rather successful."

The woman smiled. He was adorably swaggering.

"A maiden will show you the chamber. Now go, I have some matters to discuss with Galmar."

* * *

"It's huge," she exclaimed when the maiden opened the door for her. There was everything she could possibly wish for: a warm bed, a fireplace, books and some chairs. The windows looked exactly like the ones in the Jarl's chamber.

"Worthy a Jarl's mistress."

Aurora ran the maiden's words through her mind and concluded that something was not right. Mistress? It was too formal; it had a name, an epithet. There was more to this story than first became apparent.

She stepped closed the door behind her and shut out the other woman. Still dripping, she sat down by the table.

Mistress? The Jarl had said that he only wanted maidens, so why did he wish for her to visit his chamber? She had been given an own room, without having joined the rebellion. There were too many contradicting words escaping him.

Still wearing the uncomfortable armour, she fell asleep. The long journey in the cold rain had taken its toll on her body. Sleep deprivation and not eating properly for days had left her weak and tired.

When she woke up, she saw only darkness. There was no light coming in from the windows, but sounds were heard from the neighbouring rooms. It could not have been too late, for she had arrived at the palace early that morning. Aurora stood up and opened the door, realising the sound was coming from drunken soldiers.

The woman's arms were nearly dry, but her tunic and jacket were not. The dress she had worn tied around her shoulders was wrinkled and slightly damp, but it had to do. Aurora removed her soaking pieces of clothing only to once more feel the femininity of the long, blue dress. She felt naked, though. Without her sword, she was defenceless. Automatically, she took her belt and put it around her waist.

She returned to analysing the Jarl's behaviour towards her, and it hit her instantly. Of course. He had no intention of testing her any further. Perhaps a few, easy quest for his rebellion, but that would be it. No, the reason to why he invited her was completely different.

The Imperial knew and expected to have to prove herself, but this was just ridiculous. With her blood boiling with anger, she walked out into the corridor.

She could barely think as she walked down the stairs to the strategy room. He was still there, talking to the older man, but she did not care. She did not have to control herself, not under these circumstances.

"You enjoy the hunt, don't you? A blond, attractive Jarl who sweeps a girl off her feet. That's a story we've both heard before."

Surprised, the Jarl looked up on her, trying to hide a smile. Aurora did not look anywhere but directly at him, with her arms crossed in front of her and eyes burning with agitation.

"I'll be thrown out the moment you grow tired of me. How long would it take, hm? Just like with the rest of your young women – week at the most?"

The Jarl took a few steps away from the table, closer to Aurora and cleared his throat. He was thinking of what to say, what excuse to use.

"Would you please excuse us, Galmar? The woman here is obviously in distress."

Galmar might have rolled his eyes, but the pair would never have known. Quiet as a mouse, he left the room.

The Jarl walked even closer to her, crossing his arms too.

"How did you know?"

"Things did not add up. You first saying that you prefer inexperienced women, then inviting me to stay. Sending me out on a mission to keep me content. Well, you failed that part, but you nearly got me anyway, but I'm putting a stop to this. I'm leaving."

At first, he stood there as if he was frozen to the ground. He tried to pierce her look with those beautiful grey eyes and calm her with his body language. Then suddenly, to Aurora's great annoyance, he began to laugh.

"Galmar owes me a drink."

He was looking right at her with a very content facial expression, and the woman felt irritation and anger fill her. Her hand was desperately trying to break free and slap him in the face.

"You betted on whether I'd make it out alive?!"

"Calm down, Imperial. I trusted you'd be alright, it was he who thought otherwise."

"I don't need this. I'm a warrior, I'm bound to fight, that is my destiny. I should leave."

"Yet you only wished for a new beginning when we two spoke. I offered you one. You women really are..."

"I never thought you only wanted to have me here until your groin told you otherwise. It is degrading... my _Jarl_. Besides, it's not as if I don't have other things to take care of."

He silenced for a while, with thoughts running through his head. She was more than he asked for, and he was rather intrigued by the dark haired Imperial woman. He had never met someone of the weaker sex who was confident enough around him to be arrogant. Suddenly, he smiled and put his right hand on the decorated pommel attached to his belt, letting his fingers drum on it.

"Take out your sword."

"What?"

"You heard me."

His fingers slip down to the grip, and the man pulled his blade out of the scabbard. He spun it in he air, making a circle, and finally pointed it right at the woman.

Her reflexes were not to be underestimated. It did not even take a second for her to grab the sword and parry. He had not been too quick, and the tip of the sword was about a foot away from her, making the game all too easy.

She placed her left hand behind her back and held his gaze as she did so. Taking a few steps clockwise, she had a few moments to test him mentally. He was the first one to make an attack, which the woman easily avoided by jumping forwards and forcing his sword up in the air, blocking it with her own.

"Not bad," he exclaimed. "What if I...?"

He threw himself to the side and ended up on one knee with his sword safely blocking all potential hits from her. There was a pause, and he raised himself, after what Aurora leaped forwards, swinging hard at his blade with her own. The man lost his balance slightly, rotating his shoulders to block the hit, but by then, she already had her eyes on his side, steering her weapon towards his unprotected area between the armour pieces.

He noticed her plan and avoided being hit by falling to the ground and rolling away from her. He did not need to say anything. The Jarl trying to hide a smile was enough for them both to understand.

* * *

**Thanks for following! The next update may take a while, cause I'm going to BERLIN.**


	5. Northern lights

He had called her to his chamber that night, and she happily obeyed his wishes. Without saying a word, his lips had found their way to hers, and the woman was enjoying every moment of it. It was almost love making by then, obscured by self-hatred and denial, yet still. Aurora saw him as a friend, a friend whom she cherished and gladly shared the pleasure with.

He was good at taking her mind off unpleasant things and distant, gloomy memories. Not many men possessed that ability, but when she was with him, he took so much space that she could have nothing else on her mind. In those black times, he was her saviour, for what she would be forever grateful.

Leaning against the bedframe with her head on his chest, and the man's arm around Aurora's shoulders, she was listening to his heartbeat and thinking of her all but ladylike behaviour. Her laughter made the man's thoughts wander to the same direction.

"I've never met a woman as impertinent as you!" he exclaimed happily, looking out in the room. "I could never have guessed that you'd be that arrogant when I first saw you."

She turned her head slightly upwards and looked him in the eyes, smiling. "Really?"

"You seemed all innocent. Nervous." He was still blatantly ignoring her gaze, but caressed her slightly on her arm to prove that he was still mentally present.

The woman shifted herself into a more comfortable position and began to gather her childhood memories. "There hasn't been a time when I've been innocent. Although, I'm surprised you thought so since you've seen me with my hands bound, preparing to have my head cut off. Normally, one doesn't end up on the black list for nothing, you know?"

The Jarl jerked slightly. "What?"

"We've met before. In Helgen. We were on the same carriage. There was another of your men who survived there too. A blond..." she gestured with her hand as she explained.

"Ralof?" he asked with his forehead wrinkled, as if he was trying to catch his memories.

"Yes, I trust that was his name."

"By Talos!" he suddenly exclaimed and turned around slightly. "I didn't recognise you. Of course! Aurora, isn't it?"

Well, perhaps she was not much of a looker in his eyes, making him forget her, but she was happily surprised that he managed to remember her name. She had never told it to him, meaning that he must have caught it when the Legionnaire asked her, as it was not on the list of prisoners to be executed.

"You remember my name?" she asked, trying her best not to be too obvious with her smile and joyful tone.

There was no need, though. The Jarl was smiling form ear to ear and gazing at her with his eyes half-closed. "Your name, even though you're an Imperial, means 'Northern Lights'. It caught my attention."

_"You know your name means 'northern lights'?" _His voice had been calm and deep. A very pleasant tone. Manly, mystic. She remembered it so well, his first compliment to her. It was not _really_ a compliment, but it was the closest to one she had ever heard from him, making her treasure it immensely. A cold shiver went through her spine as the hurt of unfulfilled emotions and shattered dreams came over her.

"What is it?"

She realised her expression must have changed. Her smiled died out and was replaced by an anxious tick in the eyes – a gloomy look that did not suit her very well.

"A man has said that to me before," she explained, trying to hide her pain. "I was just surprised by the familiar words. That's all."

"A man of great significance to you?" his face changed too and looked rather worried.

"I didn't say that," she quickly cried out, preparing to change the subject. "It's just... Skyrim has come to be the home I never had. It is truly a beautiful place. And you and your enemies wreck it for the sake of what?"

His concern turned into anger. She could see it so clearly – anyone could. His pulse went up, making veins on the side of his forehead appear in their red glory.

"They promised me! After we took Markarth, your beloved Empire promised us freedom. They promised we could pray to Talos. Traitors! Your Empire was _this_ close to winning when they asked for peace, not giving a damn about us!"

"You are not making the lives of your kin easier by further tearing the land in half! _My Jarl_," she answered sarcastically.

"It is worth the pain," he said, trying to calm down. "It will be worth it – at the end. With a Skyrim free of both Elven and Imperial oppression. You are so young, Aurora. You haven't seen the darkness of war."

Apparently, he had decided to forgive her for her comment, blaming her youth for being so oblivious. The woman, however, had no intention of surrendering. She was not a normal, twenty-something girl. She had seen it all.

"No, but I've seen what's left after it. I've been to all provinces of Tamriel, and I know the suffering combat causes. I've seen death, famine, illness and destruction. Nothing good comes out of it. What do you fight for, my Jarl? What's your heart's reason to start a civil war? Is it glory you want? Power?"

Her words upset him greatly, yet the Jarl once again decided to calm down instead of casting angry curses at her. The man took offence in her believing that he did everything for his own glory, when the reality was different. He looked her directly in the eyes and began to speak with a tone that could break anyone's heart.

"I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children, whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight for us few who did come home, only to find our country full of strangers wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves! I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight... because I must."'

He touched her with his fine words, but she still doubted him. There was too much pointing to another direction. A civil war was exactly what the Thalmor needed, and he had played his cards as if he had been instructed by the elves.

"There is always a choice," she stubbornly claimed.

"No, sometimes, there is none. The elves made that all too clear to us." His tone was silent and persuasive. The man sure knew how to engage people in his matter and persuade even the most doubtful.

"It's just... I understand that you don't wish to have Thalmor masters, but what did the Empire ever do to you? We are both human, we are brotherly people..."

"We were stabbed in the back by our so called 'brothers' from the South. Of course, you have probably been told otherwise, Imperial as you are."

"No, my Jarl. I haven't been told anything. I did not even know about this civil war until the Legion caught me and accused me of being one of yours."

She told him the truth – her truth at least. When being schooled in Cyrodiil, her lectors had not spoken a single bad or degrading word about the Nords. This opposed to all the negative comments she had received from countless Nords all across Skyrim.

The man lit up, believing to have found the right button to press. His hands were up in the air, gesticulating as he spoke.

"Doesn't it fill you with anger? The unfairness of it all? The unfairness of being falsely accused?"

"Well... It wasn't the best of days, but mistakes do occur."

"_Mistakes_," he spitted out. "Do you even know the history of the war?!" he asked angrily. His patience was becoming strained.

"I do!"

"So tell it!" he ordered.

For a moment, she merely looked at him, surprised by his sudden outbreak. He did not frighten her, not even slightly, but he had managed to confuse her. She could not understand his source of anger and resentfulness, and it did not add up that he would bear such a weight for nothing. If he started the war for glory, this was something contradicting it.

"It all began at Summerset Isle where the Thalmor, who were in minority ceased the power," she began, speaking like out of a textbook.

The Jarl nodded and leaned back.

"Then they attacked Valenwood and Elsweyr, and established the second Aldmeri Dominion. 70 years of peace followed, after what the Void Nights came and the two moons disappeared for two years. The elves claimed to have brought them back with some kind of magic, and the Khajiit celebrated them as their saviours. Then came the final blow; the Thalmor sent the Emperor an ultimatum, which he could not accept. They demanded that the Blades would be disbanded, that the Empire would pay yearly tributes and basically force us to accept the Thalmor as our masters."

"They also demanded that Talos worship would be banned. That was one of my most sacred reasons to fight those bastard elves!" Ulfric interrupted her.

"With all due respect, if the war could have been avoided by just accepting..."

"Guard your tongue, girl! Do you even know who Talos was?!"

With her brows wrinkled and head full of confusion, she looked at him, trying to comprehend that she had probably been missing out on something.

"Yes, he was a great man, but the elves are right, he was not a God."

"Is that what they taught you in Cyrodiil? Have they brainwashed you so? Talos came to Tamriel as Hjalti Early-Beard, born and raised in Skyrim. He allied himself with the Bretons in a mission to unite all of Tamriel, and he succeeded. As he was preparing to fight for the Reach, a storm swept over them, with Ysmir himself teaching Hjalti the Way of the _Voice_."

The woman gasped for breath. The Way of the Voice. He was a Dragonborn! Little did the Jarl know, but that information made her feel very uncomfortable. For too many months, she had been ignoring her duties as Dragonborn, fighting witches and bandits instead of finding a way to stop Aludin. She had been too scared, but had not felt any shame about that.

"Later, uniting all of Tamriel, he was crowned as Emperor Tiber Septim," the Jarl proceeded. Aurora did her best to listen to him, but found it difficult. "After his death, he _re-_ascended to godhood and once more became known as Talos, just as many of the Divines before him." He paused, taking Aurora's shameful expression as one of doubt. Almost desperately, he turned to her and continued:

"There is a ritual to which two things are needed; a Daedric artefact and one of a God to work. Tiber Septim's armour is sufficient for this, and both Nords and Imperials know this, the older ones at least. You did not know?"

Too many thoughts were running through her mind, and she tried to organise them by putting off the analysis of what to do about the dragon. The Jarl should have her full attention.

"No..." she began.

"Then I assume, you are oblivious to what really happened at the Battle of the Red Ring?"

"It was a long and difficult battle, but resulted in status quo."

"Damn you!" He jerked and threw his arms up as he said so. "We were _this_ close to winning the war! _This_ close, but Titus Mede the second proved to be the milkdrinker he is. I was personally there, at the frontline, fighting for my land. We suffered major losses, but the Thalmor even more. We could have thrown them out once and for all, but instead, your _coward_ of an Emperor decided that a truce banning Talos was more appropriate. He ceded land the Thalmor weren't even controlling! For five years, our brave Redguard brothers fought the war themselves, without any help from Cyrodiil. Can you honestly say that your _Empire_ doesn't make your blood boil?"

He was right. It was so unfair. After that night and for the eternity to come, she admired him greatly.

* * *

"I misjudged you," the man said with a tone of admiration in his voice.

Close as they seemed, the Jarl had probably informed Galmar about her long ago, Aurora thought.

"Ready to swear the oath?" he asked her solemnly.

"Oath?" she asked. She found oaths slightly ridiculous, and her thoughts about it must have escaped her lips.

"Before you're one of us, you must swear fealty to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, future High King of Skyrim. You must also pledge unswerving loyalty to your fellow Stormcloaks, to Skyrim and to her people."

She cursed the Jarl for talking her into this. Yet, she was now sure that this was the right thing to do. She felt disappointed of some of her own people and ruler, who were weak when they were needed the most. She thought of Delphine who had to go into hiding for years and years, being betrayed by her own master. She thought of the honest warriors of Skyrim, being abandoned by their brothers and sisters in Cyrodiil.

Aurora was not a Nord, but she was a warrior. She was honest, and she fought unfairness wherever she saw it. She loved Skyrim for being the home to her that Cyrodiil failed to be.

"I'm ready."

* * *

**Sorry for taking so long, but I had a great time abroad. Thank you for commenting and following! **


	6. The Horny Crown

Aurora woke up later than the Jarl and noticed he was gone. It seemed to be an unusually warm day with the sun shining through the windows of the royal bedchamber. She was in a good mood after a few days of resting in bed after her journey to the cold equivalent of Oblivion.

She put on her leather jacket and pants, gauntlets and boots, but did not care for her cuirass. It was too uncomfortable by then. The woman convinced herself that it was due to ageing of the steel and nothing else, after what she happily walked downstairs to the strategy room.

The Jarl and Galmar seemed busy as always, almost whispering to one another as they stood by the table. Aurora stopped in the middle of the stairs and leaned back towards the wall, eavesdropping on the two men.

"Balgruuf won't give us a straight answer," Galmar complained.

"He's a true Nord. He'll come around," the Jarl answered confidently.

"Don't be so sure of that. We've intercepted couriers from Solitude. The Empire's putting a great deal of pressure on Whiterun."

"And what would you have me do?" The Jarl sounded rather annoyed.

"If he's not with us, he's against us."

Those words hit her like a blade. She had great respect for the Jarl of Whiterun, and knew that there was an overwhelming risk of him not joining the rebellion. The World was not black or white, cold or warm, and it angered her when people gave her or others ultimatums. The Empire may not have been strong or honourable enough to rule Skyrim, but she did not hate it. Neither side was completely innocent in the conflict, and the fact that both the Stormcloaks and the Empire produced and spread propaganda annoyed her. The people belonged to the same species – they were both human, but seemed to have forgotten it, letting the elves take control whilst fighting one another.

"He knows that. They all know that."

"How long are you going to wait?"

"You think I need to send Balgruuf a stronger message," the Jarl stated sarcastically.

"If by message you mean shoving a sword through his gullet." Galmar too sounded as if he had enough.

Aurora's heart skipped a beat and she began to regret her choice of joining the rebellion. What had an Imperial like her to do with Skyrim after all? No, contributing to the death of Balgruuf was nothing she would do. She would never be able to live with herself after that.

"Taking his city and leaving him in disgrace would make a more powerful statement, don't you think?"

"So we're ready to start this war in earnest then?"

The Jarl leaned back and raised his gaze, by that noticing Aurora standing in the stairs, leaning back towards the wall in shock.

"Soon," he said and made a gesture with his hand for Aurora to come down.

The woman followed his orders and descended, walking towards him with a gloomy look on her face.

"Good morning, my Jarl," she whispered.

"What is wrong?" he asked worryingly in the same low tone.

She threw a quick look over his shoulder at Galmar and then locked it at her master's chest. The Jarl got as close to her as he could, taking her left hand into his and waiting patently for her to say something.

"It... I overheard your conversation, and... I'm a Thane of Whiterun, I can't..."

The Jarl's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. That frail little woman who stood in front of him – a Thane? She sure was full of surprises, that young Imperial. As quickly as he could, the Jarl pushed away the thought and told her:

"A noble then. I thought you said you were just a warrior."

"I'm not noble. I was given the title after killing a dragon that was attacking one of the guard towers. Balgruuf himself ordered it, I can't..."

"And you shall not. I give you my honest word." He looked her in the eyes and smiled slightly whilst promising her, making Aurora feel a bit better about the situation. The Jarl was a man of his word, and this was not the time or place (or company for that matter) to discuss her worries.

She nodded, and the man instantly placed his right hand on her lower back, bringing her closer to Galmar.

"Galmar wishes to speak to you." He said so with a slightly troubled look, as if he doubted his friend's intentions, after what he walked up to a window, placing himself with the back against his subjects.

Galmar's mood changed to the better as he saw her. The woman could see right through him that he had some kind of quest for her, for he could barely stand still. His excitement even managed to bring a genuine smile to her face.

"What's the mission?" she asked, finding older man's impatience rather amusing.

"I've found the final resting place of the Jagged Crown. Can you believe it?"

In all honestly, she had no idea of what it was and gave him a look that explained it.

"Well, I'm almost certain." His tone when he spoke of the Crown reminded her about Karlilah's – it was dreamy. "We're headed to Korvanjund. But, if old King Borgas is indeed buried there, we're bound to run into trouble of some kind. Your fellow Stormcloaks are already assembling outside the tomb. I'll meet you there as soon as I'm finished up here."

Aurora was thrilled about the mission, but after turning her head towards the window, where her master stood, she noticed something was wrong. The Jarl had turned around with a very worried expression on his face. He almost threw himself forwards, around the table and walked up to his old friend, whispering something to him.

They seemed to have a rather heated discussion, and it was obvious to Aurora what it was about. Feeling irritated over her over protective lover, she crossed her arms and threw him a chilling gaze. She did not care that he did not notice. It felt good just to oppose him with a gesture.

"When have I ever been false with you?" she heard Galmar whisper.

The Jarl silenced, probably running out of arguments, something he did not do very often. Biting his teeth and giving Galmar a threatening gaze, he said:

"Fine. I'll send the Unblooded there with you."

Aurora figured that she was the one he referred to. _Unblooded_, what a horrible insult it came across as. He had probably meant it in the most honourable manner, yet it made her seem like a novice. Slightly enraged, she nodded towards Galmar and made a quick curtsey in front of the Jarl before disappearing to the main hall.

She did not care for his confused look. No one would call her something referring to inexperience without being proved otherwise. Aurora would find that damned crown, and she would personally deliver it to him. That should shut him up.

* * *

The woman hurried to see the blacksmith to receive her new armour. She was not particularly happy about it being a Stormcloak one, as Aurora preferred steel, or other metal protection, but it had to do. Wearing her old one was out of question, so whatever she was presented with had to do.

It was a chilly, but sunny morning, and the fresh air brought joy to her heart. It had been long since she had last set her foot outside of the castle, and a mission was exactly what she needed to occupy herself with. The citizens of Windhelm had just begun with their morning routines, creating a lively atmosphere in the town's centre. It hit Aurora that she did not know anyone there like in Whiterun. There was no one who greeted her with a smile and wished her a good morning.

It was about time to change that, she thought and walked with steady steps towards the market area. As she was slightly confused about the layout of the town, the woman decided to take the easiest way to her goal. She passed the inn and turned right by the wall, ending up at a small square with the local blacksmith working hard by the grinding stone.

The man had an assistant who seemed very... sure about her thing. She used the hammer in an almost hectic manner, almost as if she was hypnotised. Such devotion to one's work was uncommon, even in Skyrim.

The young Nord did not notice Aurora, but her master did. He cleared his throat to catch her attention.

"Oh, hello," Aurora said. "Galmar sent me to pick up my Stormcloak armour."

The man nodded and left the sword he was working on. He walked up the stairs leading to a house and disappeared. The Imperial crossed her arms and looked at the other woman.

"Like your job, huh?"

She turned around with a smile stretching from ear to ear. She had unusually dark hair for being a Nord, yet a Nord she was. Her blacksmith apron was dirty and even had a few holes here and there – an indication of hard work rather than poverty, though.

"Very much. Oengul is a good blacksmith, one of the best in Skyrim. I try to learn as much as I can from him."

Aurora nodded as the young apprentice got back to work. The Imperial walked around and looked at the smelter, grindstone and other objects placed near the house into which the blacksmith had gone.

As he took his time, Aurora grew bored and once again turned her attention to the other woman.

"How's Windhelm?"

Without drawing her attention from her work, she answered:

"Working in Windhelm is great. I get to see Ulfric up close."

There was a very obvious tone of admiration in her voice, but Aurora did not have time to think of it further, for just as the woman had answered, her master appeared, carrying a whole set of armour.

He presented it to her by putting it on a table, and Aurora was all but impressed. The new uniform was lighter than her old one, so she had expected it to be slightly smaller, but this one... it was tiny. There was no way she would be able to pour herself into _that_.

With a rather suspicious look, she removed her jacket and took the cuirass, putting it on. It went rather well, even though it was tight.

It was much more comfortable and fitted her perfectly, actually, even thought she first thought it was too small. Perhaps this is the way of light armour, she thought.

She kept her own gauntlets and boots, though. She did not trust leather to be able to stop potential hits properly. After thanking Oengul, she continued towards the stables to borrow a horse. The woman knew the way to Korvanjund, and on horse, it would not take long. Half a day if the horse was good.

* * *

"What's the Legion doing here? Damn Imperial spies... Well, should be fun for us at least. They don't seem to know we're here yet." Galmar was already there when Aurora arrived, and was giving a speech. "Ready to spill some Imperial blood for Skyrim?" he said and turned to her.

She did not know in what way to interpret his question, but answered with a quick smile. The dozen or so Stormcloaks moved forwards towards what seemed to be an ancient tomb of some sort. Since Aurora had been to more than one in her life, she felt calm, even though she was slightly worried about the new armour. It sure was light, and the woman worried about how good it was in battle.

Everything went so fast – they had barely attacked before being met by Imperial soldier after soldier. Aurora threw herself forwards, doing brave, almost to the brink of stupid manoeuvres. It had been too long since she last tasted blood, and the woman enjoyed every minute of the duelling that took place. She was in her essence – a warrior. She felt slightly rusty around the edges, but figured it would go away the more she used her weapon.

The third or fourth enemy she encountered hit her at the right side, causing her to lose balance fall badly. Luckily, she had nearly a dozen comrades who came to her rescue.

It was a very nasty feeling. Never before had a mortal soldier been able to push her to the ground in such a manner. The place where the sword had hit her was sore, for the lighter armour was not protecting the same way her old one did. Astonished, she got up and followed the other Stormcloaks further in, still holding her hand on the place where the sword hit her.

Suddenly, Galmar raised his hand and stopped, nodding towards what seemed as an entrance.

"Listen up. Those Imperials aren't here by coincidence..."

Aurora did not pay attention to his speech at all. Firstly, she was thinking of how strange it was to have company. During most of her Companion quests, she was alone, as she had been before that as well. She liked to be her own commander, and if she travelled with a companion, she always took the lead. It would take time to adjust being just another soldier.

Secondly, she was still in shock after being hit. For the other Stormcloaks, it did not seem like a problem, but Aurora was used to be the best of all. _She_ never lost even a foot of ground, not to mention being forced to eat it.

More problems would appear. Galmar had sent her out scouting, looking for an alternative path around what he stated was a trap. She sneaked through the narrow corridors and stairs until she was attacked by a handful of Imperials.

She could not recognise her own fighting style. When the enemy swung at her and she blocked, her arm was thrown back at her chest. Aurora was tired by the time the third soldier came at her. Bashing with the shield took a lot of power and energy from her, and her muscles were shaking, preventing her from protecting herself properly as well as hitting the ones that did their best to kill her.

When she swung, the impact did not make the enemy fall to the ground with blood running out on the floor. It took her five, six or even seven hits before she accomplished what was necessary. The woman felt as she did her best, but it came across as if she did not hit them as hard as she thought. Frustrated, she swung her sword against the stone wall and cursed her body. Damn it.


	7. It's not a problem

She approached the palace with the crown in her right hand. It was after midnight, and the season's first snow was falling on her shoulders. The town slept deeply, unaware of the night's historical events.

Riding half the evening and into the night had forced her to think of her current situation, aspects on the future, but most importantly – her past. The woman was in a melancholic state of mind, regardless of what treasure she carried. The dreary cold of the North was taking its toll on her, both mentally and physically.

Aurora was utterly confused by her newly found, volatile happiness. The Jarl made her feel in a way no other man had ever done. When with him, it was like her emotional wellbeing was in balance, yet when parted, she felt nothing for the man. She had not missed him the slightest, on the contrary – she had only the current goal in sight.

Perhaps... Oh. She had not realised how difficult it was to pronounce or even think his name after trying to forget about his existence for more than three fortnights. When unprepared, the thought of him appeared in her mind like a ghost that broke its way through walls of wood and stone. It always hit her like a dagger in the lungs, paralysing her completely.

She shook her head, hoping for the thoughts of _him_ to disappear by falling out of her ear and being shattered against the ground. Perhaps he had been right, that a woman is only ever pleased when her hollowness is filled. It did apply to her specific situation.

This was some other type of hollowness, though. There was an emotional aspect, a spiritual, that not even the Jarl could take care of. He made her forget about it, periodically, but then came moments like this when her world broke apart.

There were no tears left, they had all been spent on the cushion in her palace room during lonely nights away from the Jarl. Only numbness remained, and it was not cryable. It had another use, though, and she very much preferred it to the melancholic state of mind she had at the moment. It made her life easier, even if it was merely a convenient lie.

"Damn him, I owe Galmar a drink," said the Jarl with a cocky smile whilst still remaining in an almost laying position. His right hand was slightly raised in front of his face when he spoke. "Did you run into any trouble?" he continued.

His cheeky look made Aurora smile too. Casually, she presented the crown to him. A servant then took it from her and she was left alone with the Jarl.

"No, well... Haven't gone out on a mission for a while, so I hurt myself slightly." The woman turned slightly where she stood. "But it wasn't a problem," she quickly added.

The Jarl straightened himself out faintly by sitting up properly.

"I'm happy to hear it. Now sit down and eat."

"Oh, I'm not..." Aurora began, shaking her head in protest.

"Drop the excuses and handle the problem. I will not just stand here and do nothing whilst you disappear in front of my eyes."

He raised himself from the throne and walked up towards the woman, leading her to the table.

"There are no excuses..." she continued as he pushed her down on the bench by placing his hands on her shoulders.

He sat down next to her, but with his legs to the other side of the bench.

"You don't have the same strength anymore, Aurora. Your old armour doesn't fit you. Don't try to fool me. Despondency burdens you like an illness."

She was stunned, and made an expression to match her mood. Her mouth was slightly opened and her brows tilted forwards, creating lines on the forehead, looking as if he had just insulted her.

"It's not a problem, I assure you!" she said with a rather high-pitched voice.

The man looked her in the eyes and held her gaze for a moment before standing up and taking a few steps away from her.

"You don't understand the severity of it," he said with his back against her. "You put yourself in great risk! Most of the enemies are men – _strong_ men. You are technically adequate, yes, but you need the strength to block hits." He turned around to face her, and had a very worried expression. "You look tired and worn, Aurora, yet you don't do much exercise or training."

"It's _not_ a problem!" she cried whilst standing up too.

The Jarl proved himself to be a man of action and took a bowl of something from the table, bringing it to her. He let it fall in front of her and the bowl landed with a 'boom'.

"Eat," he commanded her.

She looked at him with a reluctant expression, her eyes asking for mercy. He gazed authoritatively at her for a few seconds, but she did not appear to be reconsidering.

Before she had time to blink, he had landed next to her, holding her arms pinched together behind her. His grip was hard and unforgiving, and she could feel the pain spreading around the wrists. The man took the bowl in his free hand and held it to her mouth.

"Swallow," he said whilst she shook her head, desperate to avoid both him and the food. "Swallow!" he yelled.

The woman began to shake uncontrollably, and the Jarl, not being happy about it, straddled her by quickly putting his right leg over to her other side. When she began to feel caged, Aurora tried to kick and knee-jerk the man away, but it was hopeless. She was exhausted, and the Jarl had a strong grip of her.

She threw a gaze at the stew in front of her. It looked disgusting. Bits of meat and potato floating around in a brown liquid, but she had no choice. There was no escape. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and began to swallow what was offered as fast as she could. When she thought that she could not take it any longer, she struggled against him and whined, but he forced it all down.

When the last piece of cold stew was gone, her eyes were filled with tears. The woman could not take it anymore, and it all came at her at once. The Jarl tried to calm her by placing a hand on her shoulder, but she pushed it away.

"You shouldn't have done that."

The man was just about to say something when she felt nauseous and her stomach turned inside out. She emptied it behind the bench, on the beautiful blue carpet. The taste was awfully sour, and the pieces of potato and meat had not been chewed properly, meaning they returned in chunk-form.

"You haven't eaten in a long time. Your stomach is so unused to food that it forced it up again," the man said silently whilst trying to embrace the woman.

She was crying hysterically and pushed him away, trying to hit him in the process. When he backed away, she let her fists hit vividly against his chest. He stopped her by taking a firm hold of her hands, and without changing his expression.

He held her tightly against him and let her calm down by sobbing on his shoulder.

* * *

She woke up in his bed the following morning. It was still before eight, for there was no noise coming from the street in front of the palace. People were still inside, preparing for a new day.

The Jarl was not there with her, but she had gotten used to it. There were only a few occasions when he had still been in bed by the time she woke up. He seemed to begin his day at six or seven o'clock, what was too early for Aurora's taste.

She suppressed the memory of the previous night before getting up. The woman shivered as her naked feet touched the cold floor, and she hurried to get dressed. Upon realising that she had left her leather jacket at Oengul's the previous day, she sighed and cursed herself for not taking the time to walk back to the castle before heading out on the mission.

The weather was just as bad as during the night, and she dreaded walking all the way to the market in her Stormcloak cuirass.

Not knowing what to do that day, or what to say to the Jarl, the woman decided to visit the blacksmith and then return to bed. When entering the main hall, Ulfric was nowhere to be found, what gladdened Aurora. She did not wish to deal with his questions.

The moment she set her foot outside of the Palace of Kings, a blood freezing wind did its best to throw her to the ground. All but pleased, she stumbled towards the market place.

Even the Nords seemed distressed by the cold, but people had to make their coin, so there they were – smiting and smelting. Before Aurora had the chance of opening her mouth, Oengul knew what she was out for.

"Your things are inside, just to the left as you walk in."

Aurora yelled a 'thank you' before hurrying inside. There they were – her old helmet and jacket, as well as her new gauntlets and boots. The woman removed her Stormcloak cuirass and put on her jacket. How she had missed the freedom of a thief-like clothing. She was a lot more flexible in it as it did not have random parts that were sown into it for protection, and in days like these, she only wished to sit in a cosy, warm corner of the castle.

When Aurora closed the door behind her, Oengul's helper approached her, asking how the new armour felt.

"I don't know, it doesn't do a great job protecting the sides," she shuttered. "I think I prefer the Grey-Manes..."

"This is _light_ armour, though. You can't just attack, you have to be more careful in this than in ebony or steel."

Aurora was all but convinced, but nodded as if she understood, mostly to get rid of the woman. It was freezing, and she had no intention of engaging in longer-than-necessary conversations.

She made a small mess of her equipment as she ran through the town with all of her things wrapped around one another. She lost a boot and had to run back a few yards to retrieve it, to her great annoyance. When the Imperial finally set her foot inside of the palace, she saw the Jarl sitting on his throne. He was occupied with Jarly things that did not interest her, so the woman continued towards her own quarters.

The things fell to the ground, and she crawled up in bed. A servant had lit the fire, so the temperature was quite pleasant, but for now, the woman was still cold.

She spent many hours at her room, looking at maps and thinking of the distant lands of Tamriel before she got bored and decided to visit the Jarl. As she did not wish to bother him whilst he was planning, she decided to go straight up to his chamber.

It was barely after five when she entered the bachelor's room, and she figured it would take a while for him to finish his meetings, so she decided to have a closer look on the things he stored in the chamber. There were a few things of interest – clothing, mantles, old letters and books. Not wishing to intrude, she decided against reading them as she figured they were of a personal nature. Instead, Aurora inspected his collection of books.

One of them caught her interest in particular – the _Mystery of Princess Talara_, volume 3. A love story! Aurora giggled. Her Jarl, the Great War veteran, a follower of _the_ _Way of the Voice,_ her lover... The man enjoyed romantic princess stories. She sat down on the bed and began to reed it, her eyes eating through the pages as if they were sweetrolls.

The minutes passed, turning into hours. Aurora could honestly say that she enjoyed the novel, even though she had never opened the first and second parts of the triology or whatever it was. The woman had gotten through most of the book when she heard the door being opened. Still with her eyes in the book and giggling, she turned around and began to tease the person in front of her.

It was too late when Aurora realised her mistake. It was not a tall, blond man with gorgeous eyes and braids. In fact, it was a young, dark-haired girl with a rather long face – who looked terrified.

"What can I do for you?" Aurora asked before realising the girl was not decently dressed. Her naked feet and calves were clearly visible. She was almost naked, only wearing a... mantle.

Before the girl had time to answer, Aurora excused herself and ran towards the door and down the stairs, still carrying the book. Just when she reached the second set of stairs, she collided with a broad-shouldered man.

"Aurora, I've been meaning to speak to you," said the Jarl.

With some hair covering her eyes and holding on to the book with her arms crossed over her chest, she must have looked rather confused. At least the Jarl must have thought so, for he had a very wrinkled forehead.

"Oh, yes... Right... my Jarl. Go on!" she slurred.

Aurora hoped that he would not bring up last night's events. Thankfully, the Jarl sensed her anxiety and did not ask her anything.

"I have a message I need delivered to the Jarl of Whiterun," he said, still with an suspicious expression on his face.

He lifted a very shiny axe, holding it horizontally in front of the woman. The handle was ordinary and made of wood, draped with leather, but the blade was astonishingly sharp. The woman took it in her hands and touched the edge slightly, cutting herself.

"An axe?" she questioned.

"Yes. An axe," he almost whispered. "Give the man my axe. If he keeps it, I will bide my time. If he returns it to you, it means war."

"Should I say anything to him?"

"Men who understand each other often have no need for words. There are but a few simple truths behind one warrior giving another his axe. Balgruuf will know my meaning."

The Jarl smiled, but Aurora felt very uneasy. There was no point telling him, though, for he would not change his mind. Balgruuf was a very good man, and she had dreaded this day since overhearing the Jarl and Galmar speak of it.

There was a second reason too. She knew that she had no right to do so, yet she felt betrayed. The Jarl was a monarch, and he had all the right to take a young woman's virginity if he wished. Besides, neither one of them had promised the other anything.

Yet there was this one thing. Aurora felt as if they were more than just lovers, for the Jarl would not tell just anyone about his personal struggles, or would he?

The woman was considering whether if she let him talk her into this merely by sleeping with her. Was she that easy to manipulate? Would she follow anyone who offered her a roof over her head and a manhood for personal use? Once again, she cursed herself. The Imperial had made it a habit by now.


	8. A Ghost from the Past

There it was again, her beautiful town with the wooden houses with carved rooftop decorations, the castell, which created a stunning view against the pink, evening sky. It was her home, yet she had to avoid bother her house and living quarter at Jorrvaskr. She was not ready to meet _him_, and speaking to her housecarl had always been uncomfortable for her.

The woman could barely manage to face Balgruuf, who had been nothing but hospitable and kind towards her. She hoped that the Nord in him would be victorious in the mental dilemma. There was no way in Oblivion that she could ever raise her sword against him.

She did not wish to be seen in her Stormcloak uniform as she had a completely different role in Whiterun. She was Dragonborn and a Companion. Instead, the woman wore her leather jacket, ignoring the fact that winter had won its yearly victory over autumn.

Her body felt as numb as her mind when she reached the grand gates to Dragonsreach. The guards around her were whispering something about the axe she carried, having figured out what it meant.

With heavy steps, she walked inside and headed straight towards the Jarl of Whiterun who was sitting on his throne as usual. It was as if not a single day had passed for half a year since she last paid Balgruuf a visit. Nothing appeared to have changed at Dragonsreach.

The Jarl, the Steward, four guards and the housecarl all looked at her in shock and disbelief as she approached them. The silence spoke more than a thousand words. Feeling their gazes burn her skin, Aurora slowed down a few yards from the throne.

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak asked me to deliver this axe to you," she finally said and lowered her head out of respect for the man in front of her.

Balgruuf straightened his back and pierced the woman in front of him with his eyes.

"Did he now? The man is persistent, I'll give him that," he laughed nervously and looked towards his Steward for support. When realising that he would not say a word, the Jarl continued instead. "I suppose it's time to give him an answer..."

Aurora could do nothing than to stand there and observe the for the Jarl traumatic situation. The Steward whispered something to his master, making it clear that it was not merely a question of Ulfric's rebellion, but that it had a personal aspect too.

"He was rather straight-forward with Torygg," Irileth said with her arms crossed and a rather sarcastic tone.

"Torygg?" Proventus exclaimed. "He simply walked up to the boy and murdered him!"

"That _boy_ was High King of Skyrim," the housecarl answered.

Aurora had not realised Proventus was an Imperial before now. She had always suspected that he originated from the southern lands, and hearing his name made her sure about it. She had been rather neutral towards him when living in Whiterun, for she had not known him well enough to form an opinion of his persona. Aurora had always preferred to spoken directly to the Jarl, with the exception of when she bought Breezehome. Now, however, she came to the conclusion that she was not particularly fond of him.

"I'm not High King, but neither am I a boy. If Ulfric wants to challenge my rule in the old way, let him. Though I suspect he'll prefer to send his 'Stormcloaks' to do it for him."

Aurora's thoughts quickly moved on to her Jarl. Perhaps Balgruuf had a point. She had never heard her Jarl accomplish anything with his own hands since... well, since the Torygg event. The Jagged Crown, now this... The little voice that doubted her Jarl awoken in the back of her head, urging her to follow her own path instead of walking the one her Jarl pointed out to her.

"True. He's already proven his personal strength. Now he seeks to prove his army's," Irileth answered.

Aurora strangled the doubt. Of course, Irileth too had a point. She had no reason to disbelieve him.

Her thoughts wandered back to Proventus. What a sleazy snake he was, that bastard. He leaned over towards his master and whispered again. The intention had been to say it silently enough for Aurora not to hear, but he failed.

"Consider Tullius's request," she heard him urging.

She knew by then what the outcome would be, and a wave of anxiety came over her. She knew by then that she would be forced to raise her sword on Whiterun.

Her heart droned like a Dwemer machinery and the woman had no doubt that the others must have heard it. Her breath became heavier as she stressed herself up.

"But, Proventus has a point. Ulfric has made it clear. In his mind, to refuse his claim is to side with the Empire," Irileth continued without noticing Aurora at all.

"And what harm is there in letting a few legionnaires die in place of your own men?" the Steward answered.

For Gods' sake, listen to Proventus, Aurora silently begged the Jarl. She knew many of the guards from her days with the Companions. A few of them had tried out as well.

"It seems cowardly," Balgruuf said.

"Was it cowardly then to accept the White-Gold Concordat?" Irileth returned.

"This again?!" Balgruuf exclaimed. "That was different. Was I given a chance to object to the terms of the treaty? No. The Jarls weren't asked. We were told. And we had to like it."

"The chests of gold didn't hurt," Proventus said whilst looking away.

"Damn it! This isn't about gold!"

Aurora was slightly confused, but assumed they were speaking of the tribute Cyrodiil paid the Aldmeri Dominion. She did not really care of that at the moment, instead she imagined what would become of the town she held so dearly in her heart when she would be forced to invade it in Stormcloak uniform.

"It's time to decide," Irileth finally stated as if the answer was not obvious.

"Lord, wait. Let us see if Ulfric is serious," the coward Proventus said.

"Oh, he's serious. But so am I," Balgruuf told him. Thereafter he turned towards Aurora with a spitefulness that hurt and shook her deeply. "You can return this axe to your friend. The esteemed Jarl of Windhelm has my answer. Make sure he gets it."

Without thinking, Aurora walked up to Balgruuf and took the axe, which he held carefully in front of him. No matter what, he still respected Ulfric and a part of him must have thought that the rebellion was justified.

As the woman in front of him stood with her mouth slightly opened and eyes worried sick, he ordered for parchment and quill to be brought to him. His obedient milkdrinker of a Steward hurried to comment on it.

"Are we writing a letter, Lord?"

"Yes, to General Tullius."

* * *

As she stood on the bridge, in front of the stairs leading to the rest of the town, the woman could not bring herself to take another step. She looked out over what had been her home but now was so foreign. It was a day like all others for the people of Whiterun; the lunatic preached of the Nine, the Gildergreen was blooming and the market was filled with people buying necessities for the winter.

Aurora looked towards the house with a roof that reminded of a boat that had been turned upside-down. How calm it seemed. She missed Jorrvaskr so much, but she could not find the strength to visit it. She could not bear to meet him, to see his face and eyes, knowing hers meant nothing to him.

She walked down towards the Gildergreen with her arms crossed over her shoulders. This was happening for real, then. The civil war. Within a month, she would be storming these walls and running towards Dragonsreach on the same street she walked now. She would pass Breezehome, only having time to cast a quick look at it.

Balgruuf, poor Balgruuf. She did not know of Ulfric's intentions, but she would beg for him to spare the Jarl of Whiterun. Yet she knew that it would probably be hopeless since it was up to Balgruuf more than Ulfric whether he would come out of this alive or not.

She heard her name and stopped abruptly. Aurora recognised that voice. The woman did not turn around for a few seconds, for she prepared for the moment like for her own death. Closing her eyes and hoping he would disappear if she pressed them together hard enough, she forced herself to turn around.

Never had she fought so hard in her entire life. Aurora would rather have met the Worldeater than encounter the ghost of her mind. Yet the tears still burned behind her eyelids, waiting for the most inappropriate moment to fall down on her cheeks.

"I can't believe this," he spoke, shocked and in disbelief.

She pressed away all of her thoughts, hoping it would help her control the tears. _Oh, beloved numbness, come and take me_, she said to herself.

Those wonderful, ice blue eyes mesmerised her. How she missed waking up and seeing them next to her in the dark...

But there was nothing to say. Aurora's mind was completely empty. All she could do was to let her eyes feast on him. She had been starved on those looks for the three months they been apart, and it took a while to grow accustomed to them.

He was still waiting for her to make a move, to do something. In all honestly, all she wished for was to lie in his arms and hear him whisper her name, no, it was not right. Those were lost days, she reminded herself.

"I..." she began, but could not make another sound, even if her life would hang on it.

"Why are you back?" he asked. It appeared as if he had come to his right senses now. His eyes were cold as the colour they bore, and the man basically spitted at her.

His long, black hair was slicked backwards, exposing a wrinkled forehead and eyebrows that were nearly touching one another in disdain. His straight and overly manly nose had widened nostrils, which projectile warm air directly at the woman. How she had longed for that smell.

She assumed he was speaking of her Stormcloak uniform, for he had no other possible reason to be _angry_ with her. She had proclaimed her love for him, and he had done _nothing_. She had no responsibility to inform him about her whereabouts after that. If anyone had the right to be angry, it was her. It was too late anyway, nothing could have mattered.

"Is there a specific reason to why you carry that armour?" he verbally spitted towards her.

She could not answer. It was as if her tongue would not let her – it just would not move, no matter how hard Aurora tried. He waited for a response, though, so there was nothing she could do but to nod.

"Oh... I see it now," he said and threw his arms to the sides, leaning forward as if to intimidate her. "How stupid I was, worrying over why you hadn't returned for weeks. Going through all the possible and bizarre reasons to why you haven't come back. I see it so clearly now, you _wench_!" he screamed at her.

His choice of word shocked her greatly, but she still could not form a sound. She began to feel nauseous and dizzy. Her heart was beating so fast and her breathing became heavy. Aurora, knowing that she only had moments to spare, ran out through the town gates as fast as her legs would carry her and shut the large, wooden doors. A few steps outside of Whiterun, her stomach could not take it anymore and emptied itself forcefully. The tears she had been holding back were now running down her cheeks in a steady stream as she coughed to get rid off the horrible taste.


	9. Dragonborn, my Jarl

"You promised me, my Jarl. You promised that I wouldn't have to raise my sword on Balgruuf."

They were standing outside the palace, on the balcony. It was a warm day in Evening Dusk, and Aurora had gotten a good night's rest. She had not hurried back to Windhelm, but it had passed un-noted by the Jarl.

"To be completely honest, I hoped you'd change your mind."

The Jarl was looking straight forward, observing his town. Aurora, on the other hand, had her eyes fixed at the blond man next to her. His nose was much bigger than what she remembered it to be, but on the other hand, so was the rest of him. It amazed her how quickly she forgot about him when away.

"I value honour, and so should you."

"Honour makes the man. And I'm afraid that Balgruuf sees it the same way. It is up to him to decide his destiny. If he wishes to follow his fellow legionaries into death, that is his choice. But I shall order Galmar not to be the first to raise his sword."

It was something at least. She may have been naïve, but she was not stupid.

"Thank you, my Jarl," she said.

A long silence followed. It was not uncomfortable – on the contrary. They had gotten so used to each other that they could be almost completely relaxed together. The woman thought of what lay ahead – the capture of Whiterun. For the first time in six or seven years, she was afraid of being put against a mortal enemy. Partly because she would be acquainted with some of the soldiers she would have to kill, and partly because she did not trust her own abilities anymore. After fighting Imperial soldiers when retrieving the Jagged Crown, she had been surprised to learn that she was not as strong as before.

"Now tell me, what has been burdening you?" the Jarl suddenly asked, still not looking at her.

"There are many things, my Jarl," she answered to avoid his question.

"It appears as there are one or two that might be more troublesome than the others."

"That is true. But isn't it always so?"

"No matter what, you have to take care of the problem. You have lost a lot of weight since arriving here, it is not durable." He turned to face her, and suddenly, he held her by the elbows, staring directly in her eyes. "Tell me why you shun food."

"I..." she began, but could not come up with an excuse. The woman was very uncomfortable, but she knew that he would bring it up at some point. She did not exactly wish to tell him the truth, for even she had not accepted it yet. "I've lost a person I held very dearly," Aurora told him.

"Depression then?"

"No!"

The blond man sighed and gave in. He realised that he would get no information out of her yet. He would work on it, though. One day, she would let him know, no matter how stupid her reason was. He let go of her and took a step away to the left, returning to his favourite occupation of watching his town.

"I see. Is there something else?" he said with a rather annoyed tone.

"I saw a woman in your chamber, my Jarl."

As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted having brought up the subject. She was just upset with him for thinking something like that of her. Depressed? No, only milkdrinkers had time for that. She was a warrior, and warriors were strong, both mentally and physically. Besides, it was not as if she had not lost men before.

"Yes, and?" he naturally asked.

"No, it's just silly of me to..." she said whilst looking everywhere but at him.

"Jealous now, are we not?" he laughed.

Well, since they were already discussing the subject, it would not hurt to inform her about how she felt when it came to his womanising.

"I'm not particularly fond of those kinds of relationships. I'm not used to..."

"Do not forget your place, Imperial," he interrupted her.

She could barely believe her ears. He called her by her race as if it was an insult. Yet she thought he would stop there, but he did not.

"I'm the Jarl of Windhelm, what entitles me to young maidens if I wish."

"Oh, I know..." she began.

"If you are discontent with that, you are free to leave."

She began to boil with anger. She bit her teeth and tensed up, holding her fists so hard that her nails dug into her skin. What an utter fool he was sometimes, that damned Jarl. He seemed to think that he had her stuck here in Windhelm, with him. He seemed to think that he could do anything now, and that she would stay regardless of his behaviour. That she needed him so much that she would tolerate anything How delusional he was.

"Sometimes, it is as if I could read you like an open book. As if I could see your spirit through your eyes," he smiled at her.

_He should not have dared_, Aurora thought. She was amazed that her face was not as red as the Imperial banner, for that was how she felt. He had intended for her to see the woman, and he had known when she ran into him in the stairs. Aurora did everything in her power to remain calm, but he made it impossible.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," she said with an annoyed tone.

"Aye, but that wasn't what I said."

"What do you see then?" she said through her teeth.

"A very strong, yet slightly immature woman." Once again, he looked at her as if there was not a single problem in the world. "Tell me – what were your reasons for visiting my castle? Why did you first set your foot in my town?"

_And he changed the subject?_ Gods give her strength.

"In all honestly?" she asked, being ready to give that big ego of his a punch in the face.

"Yes."

"Let's just say two prisoners went missing the morning after." She sounded as cocky as she possibly could.

Aurora had waited for a 'what!?' or at least an amazed expression, but the Jarl seemed to do everything in his power to provoke her. He bit his lip and smiled.

"I don't know what to say. I hope they weren't dangerous, those friends of yours."

"Just thieves from Riften, my Jarl," she said and raised her eyebrows as if she did things like that on a daily basis.

"Well, I guess I'll have to pretend I didn't hear that from you."

"I was on a mission to free them, but that Steward of yours caught me," she continued. "I lied and said I'd been invited and gotten lost, wanting to have a look on convicted criminals."

"Manipulative little..." he laughed.

Oh yes, she was on the right track. His respect for her had probably gone up slightly. Amused, she decided to bring more cards to the table.

"I might have made it a habit. There was this one time when I teamed up with the Blades and broke into a Thalmor embassy, pretending to be a Noble guest..."

With the speed of a Thu'um, he had turned to her and taken a firm grip of her elbows again.

"You broke into the embassy?"

"Yes..." she said and jerked her head slightly, trying to provoke him as much as possible.

"The leader, was her name Elenwen?"

Slightly, confused, Aurora answered:

"Yes, why?"

"That bitch!"

A bit more confused... Aurora began to lose her anger, something she did not wish for to happen. But at the same time, she was rather interested in what he was about to tell her.

"Alright... you are familiar, I take it?"

"Yes, we're familiar alright. She was my torturer!" he exclaimed with a tone that reminded her of the rich boys' she once shared lecturers with.

This time, it was the Jarl that was winded up. There was a short silence whilst he was trying to calm himself down.

"I was a Legionnaire in the Imperial Army in the Great War," he began with a broken voice. "My father was killed when I was 19. After the battle for the White Tower, they caught me and locked me up. She fought for the Aldmeri Dominion ordered her... bastards to rip the skin off me. So it began – hours of beatings, threats, lashing. It continued for days and days. I was barely given anything to drink or allowed to sleep. I accepted that I would die there and then. Then, all of a sudden – they released me – to stir up chaos in Skyrim so that they could control us further."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry..." she could her herself say with a tone of admiration and patronising that made her sick.

"Perhaps now you understand why my blood boils when I hear about the Thalmor."

His nostrils were widened, and his breathing heavy. He was in a mood she never seen him in before. She felt sorry for him, and cursed herself for doing so. It was so typically female to fall for the 'poor boy have seen war'-thing.

The woman could not tell if she was angrier with herself or him, and decided to continue with her plan anyway. Better get everything out of her system than to leave any risk of him believing that he had won.

She wanted to open up for him, and felt it was time. She would impress him; beat that unbearable ego of his, and crush it toward the ground. How she would rejoice when that moment would come! For a moment, she felt as the most powerful woman in Tamriel, and she was about to use the kick she got from it. The woman stepped aside and turned in direction to the entrance, giving him a teasing gaze in the process.

"WULD NAH," she shouted and a pillow of air shot her forwards. The woman landed yards away from where she had projectiled herself, and turned around with a superior, victorious look on her face.

Aurora had imagined the admiration he would have on his face, a jaw that would fall to the floor in shock. She even giggled slightly, thinking of what he would possibly come up with to tackle _that_. His reaction was nothing like she anticipated, though.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again!" he roared as he came jogging towards her. His mantle was thrown from side to side by the slight breeze, and this gave the impression of him being of considerable size. He reminded her of a sprinting troll that was ready to attack.

"I don't underst..."

He came very close to her face. He was angry like a sabre cat, and almost scared her slightly. His eyebrows were down on his nose tip and his mouth was slightly opened – he was breathing through his teeth. Aurora prepared for him to slap her across the face, for he had never been this angry before.

"The Way of the Voice is _not_ to be misused – Dragonborn or not. _Ever_," he spat at her.

Now she was utterly confused. Anger and remorse braided themselves together, causing an emotional mess never seen before. She could not understand if he was angry with her because he genuinely believed that she misused her gift, or because he was... jealous or something. Could it be possible? Perhaps it was a ludicrous idea. There was something, though. Was it that she had not told him? She was just about to ask when the Jarl turned around and walked away, angrily leaving her. _Oh great_, Aurora thought. Just what she needed.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and follows, I appreciate them very much. It is so interesting to know what you think of the characters and how the story will unfold. I have a very fixed vision of what I will write when it comes to the main plot, but I get very inspired by you when it comes to the details of following chapters. **

**Spoiler warning: There will be a Return of the Vilkas (reference to LotR intended), but that is many chapters away, and I won't tell you how it will happen. Aurora is going through a personal development at the moment (in the following chapters) and has to mature and let go of some fears to become a worthy Dragonborn. Ulfric is needed for this purpose, and perhaps for some other. ;)**


	10. On Whiterun!

The woman looked up at the sky but quickly changed her mind when the wind blew snow and ice in her eyes. The weather was awful and Aurora could no longer feel her fingers and toes. Not even the thick fur boots could keep her warm, but at least they were better than her non-existing gloves.

Her fellow Stormcloaks had been singing and keeping their spirits up for the entire four-day trip, but now even they struggled to keep warm. Only Galmar seemed to be as happy as always – probably because he would get the chance to kill enemies within minutes.

They were preparing for the attack; some hurried to drag the catapults into place, others were fixing their apparel or sharpening their swords. Aurora was sitting on a stone, trying to keep her temperature by curling up. She was organising herself mentally for the task that lay ahead, but she could not find a valid argument for killing Balgruuf without manipulating herself, something she just would not do. She would not sell her values and honour for all the Skooma in Elsweyr.

"I remember you... you were with us at Helgen," she heard a man say and come closer to her. "Glad to have you with us. How are you?"

"I'm good..." Aurora awkwardly answered, pondering over why he would ask about how she was.

Only when he sat down next to her, she realised it was indeed the same man she met whilst being brought to Helgen to be executed. He had encouraged her to go to Riverwood to meet up with his sister, but Aurora wanted nothing to do with the Stormcloak organisation back then.

"Good, good," he repeated. "Decided to join us after all?"

Aurora took a closer look at him, but only really wished for him to go away and leave her to soak in her misery alone. There was something rather interesting about him, though. Whilst the other soldiers were nervous, Ralof appeared to be very calm.

"Aye... But it took a while."

"You will have to tell me all about it. After the battle, that is."

He had a very warm smile that was enhanced by his razor sharp cheekbones. Aurora began to realise that she found those attractive to the point of stupidity. Ralof was a well-built, blond Nord that reminded her of a young Ulfric. He had a slightly smaller nose, though, and he trimmed his beard shorter than the Jarl he fought for did. And those cheekbones...

The man gave her a push on the shoulder as he walked away, forcing her to stop daydreaming. Soon thereafter, Galmar ordered his troops to gather.

He held another speech, but Aurora always disliked them. She found no inspiration whatsoever in other people's words in a moment like this. The catapults were firing at the town, and that was all she could think of. Her beautiful little town, being destroyed by her rebellion.

When they finally stormed forwards, Galmar took the lead. He must have been a frequent visitor to the town, for he knew every bush, every stone on the road. He neatly avoided all the obstacles, something that could not be said about others. A few Stormcloaks were lagging behind as they could not keep up with Galmar's pace. Aurora was not one of them, though. She followed him like a shadow, preparing to cover his back.

Once they reached the stables, they came under attack. Arrows were piercing the air, flying past them with only inches to spare. The woman raised her shield whilst on the search for the enemy soldiers.

Thankfully, the soldiers who were firing at her were not locals. They wore the Imperial cuirass, not the Whiterun Guard. As soon as they began to press the Legionnaires backwards by destroying their pike-structures, it became evident that it was in fact fellow Imperials Aurora was killing.

The constant wave of arrows falling from above made the Stormcloaks insecure, and Aurora realised that something had to be done. Galmar was far into enemy-held territory, and she was the link between him and the army.

Standing still was not an option, for there were Legionnaires everywhere. Her first objective was to free the drawbridge, for the archers were now shooting rather efficiently at her comrades.

The woman sprinted upwards, neatly pushing the defenders over the edge to a certain death, or at least a severe concussion. She tried to avoid using her sword, for it was not Draurgs she was skilling – it was real people with families, friends and dreams. As the woman was rather tall, bashing was a good option of neutralising Imperials. It was also a lot less tiring than to swing her sword all the time.

One last soldier remained between her and the handle, which would open the drawbridge. It was a male Officer who was responsible for the defence of the bridge, and he was not giving up as easy as the others.

He saw the woman coming and prepared his sword, calmly waiting for her to make a move. Aurora saw through his tactics and slowed down. About five yards away from him, she came to a standstill and prepared her weapons.

She looked at him, trying to provoke him to make the first move, but he was well trained in the art of psychology. The man did not seem to care for her warning gaze.

Had Aurora been wearing her old armour, she would have been the first one to attack, but after her last mission, she was learned her lesson. He would give in at some point, and by that making a mistake.

Yet it took ages, and Aurora was becoming worried for Galmar who was out there on his own. She had to get that drawbridge open as soon as possible. After many seconds of waiting, she decided to make her move.

There was no point to cover it up; he knew from the beginning that when she moved, that would be it. The woman raised her sword and fixed the shield and leapt towards him.

He blocked her swing with ease, and their blades struck together in chest-height, only to be thrown upwards. That was when she realised that she had made a mistake. Aurora tried to push him away from her, but he was too heavy, and when she was unbalanced, he kicked her to the floor.

She hit her head against a skirting and was a little too slow to react to what happened next. He raised his sword over the head, and swung it towards her. Without thinking, she rolled to the side, only to hear a clinging sound against the floor. It had been too close.

The woman gripped her sword and rolled up to her feet. This time she was on the other end of the bridge, and he was the one leaping forwards.

Aurora held her weapon in what seemed as a dangerously skew angle, and that was where he aimed. In the last moment, she corrected it, but it was too late for him. Without realising how it all happened, he fell to the floor with her blade buried inside of his chest. He seemed very shocked with his eyes wide-open and gaping mouth.

The Dragonborn did not have time to think of what happened, she threw herself onto the lever and began to put the bridge down. Thankfully, the rest of the Stormcloaks were close by and entered as soon as they were given the possibility.

Galmar was already by the gates, fighting two Imperials on his own when the Stormcloaks came to help him. Aurora jumped from the bridge and ran towards them.

The woman had been glad not to find Whiterun guards outside of the town, but she realised that they probably had a second line of defence on the inside.

She did not even throw a gaze at Breezehome when she walked through the gates. Aurora did not wish for any of her fellow Stormcloaks to know of her life in Whiterun, it was easier that way. Instead, she hurried towards the stairs that led to the second district of the town. A few guards tried to stop her and Galmar, and as her leader was of the less considerate type, she threw herself forwards to avoid unnecessary deaths.

Aurora bashed them, aiming at their heads. If they fell to the ground unconscious, the Stormcloaks would probably not touch them. One of the guards proved to be tougher than the rest and made the Dragonborn's job rather problematic. He was the last one though, so Galmar and his high-ranking Officers hurried towards Dragonsreach, leaving Aurora to take care of the Whiterun guard.

Remembering her mistake from minutes earlier, she decided to wait for the man to do something. She had seen him many times before, and it would hurt to kill him. Gingerly, she spread her arms to show that she was not attacking. The woman looked him in the eyes and shook her head slightly.

Neither one of them moved as they stood there, silently. Aurora swallowed hard, knowing that the next person she would stand in front of would be Balgruuf.

"I urge you to put your sword down, citizen. The battle is almost over. Spare your life."

He still looked at her, thinking of whether to surrender or not. She gave him a worried look, hoping that he would accept. She still needed to hurry to Dragonsreach, preventing Galmar from doing something stupid to Balgruuf.

The guard was still thinking, and Aurora could wait no longer. With a leap, she pressed forwards, pushing him into the water.

"Enough. It's enough! I surrender... I surrender," she heard a voice cry.

There was no question about whose it was, and she ran up to the group of people, passing six dead soldiers.

The woman forced Galmar to put his sword down by giving him a warning gaze as she approached.

Balgruuf had been kneeling, but stood up and looked at her with discontent and disappointment clearly noticeable in his eyes.

"You. A Stormcloak? I'd thought better of you. You'll all come to regret this day."

* * *

Ralof had taken a firm grip of her shoulders and led her outside when he saw the impact Balgruuf's words had on her. It was very late, but at least the wind had calmed down. They walked in silence towards the camp they had set up just outside of the town. Well, Aurora did. Ralof seemed rather keen on talking to her, but it appeared as he could not find the right words. Aurora tried to ignore him, but his presence made it difficult for her to think.

Once they were a few hundred yards away from the tents and clearly could see the campfire, the man became unbearable, so Aurora asked him what he wanted with an unfriendly tone.

"You fight like a lioness," Ralof answered with a rather flirtatious gaze.

His words surprised her, for she had been avoiding direct combat by bashing and pushing the enemies rather than using her sword.

"Sorry?"

"Your technique is very elegant. I've never seen anyone handle their sword like you do."

"Thanks," she said and rolled her eyes when she realised that he was bending the truth in order to woo her.

"Still killed more than you. I counted," he smiled.

"Good for you," Aurora answered whilst putting on a brave face, not wishing to inform him about the difficulties she encountered by killing people she knew.

She felt lonely. The fight she had with her Jarl still hung over her like a dark cloud, and she did not even wish to think of what Balgruuf had said to her. It felt as if the entire world had turned against her, making sure that there were unclimbable obstacles on either way she chose.

Once they arrived at the campsite, Ralof invited himself over to Aurora's tent. Technically, they were allowed to sleep wherever they pleased, but the woman had been the first in that specific tent. They spoke for a while about the battle, but then the subject moved on to discussing the fellow Stormcloaks, including Galmar. After hearing him complain about the fact that their leader did not know his name (probably because he was not _Dragonborn_), Aurora felt like it was time to go to sleep. Ralof had other plans, though, and began to insult her.

"What if I told you that you are smaller and uglier than I remember you to be?" he cheekily exclaimed.

Aurora laughed. "I'd kick you down before you knew it."

"That's what I feared, so I'll just kiss you instead."

That was indeed what he did. Aurora's heart jumped when his lips touched hers. Slowly, he made her separate them and let his tongue explore her mouth.

His warm breath tickled her skin, but she enjoyed every second of it. She loved the feeling of stubble against her, and pressed her body closer to him, automatically placing her hands at his chest. It had been long since kissing felt that intimate and... tickling in her stomach. This was something new and fresh about Ralof that she could not withstand.

He broke the kiss and looked her directly in the eyes, smiling.

* * *

Feeling that someone was stroking her hand, she woke up. How wonderful it was to rest in bed, even if it was a temporary one in a tent, out on a field. She loved how protected she was from the cold outside. The body heat was enough to keep a pleasant temperature in the crowded, little space.

When she opened her eyes, her mood changed very quickly. She realised where she was, and with whom. The woman remembered the events that had taken place the previous night and wanted to hit herself with a hammer in the head.

Oh Gods, what had she done? It was not the fact that she had been unfaithful towards her Jarl – that bastard obviously did the same to her. No, this was more of a personal shame. She craved love and comfort, damn it, and she would go great lengths to receive it.

Aurora acknowledged it – she was emotionally unstable to the point where she would sleep with almost any man she was even slightly attracted to and gave her attention. This was not about being a confident, strong woman anymore. When doing so without those qualities, it was nothing but destructive. Her weakness was not attractive men, it was the fact that she needed affection from them. She lay there for as long as she could before getting out of bed, promising herself that she would not be carnal with a random man ever again.


	11. Standing on the Verge

"So you return in glory!" the Jarl said and raised his arms to greet her. He had seen her from across the hall and immediately gestured for her to come closer.

Aurora was relieved to finally be back in Windhelm. She had walked all the way from Whiterun in awful weather conditions and looked forward to a nice, warm bed as a change to the tent she carried with her.

As she followed the table and came closer to the throne, she noticed that the blue carpet was gone. She had her reasons to believe that she might have been responsible for that, but she did not let it put her down. The Jarl seemed very pleased with her work, and the woman was content with the fact that the Stormcloaks spared Balgruuf's life, and that he now was on his way to Solitude.

"We now control the centre. It's a powerful position. One I aim to keep," the Jarl spoke, mostly to himself.

She was also pleased with the new Jarl of Whiterun – her fellow Companion Vignar Gray-Mane. She trusted him with her beloved town as she had known the man for nearly two years. He was one of the oldest members of the organisation and a good leader.

Aurora came up to Ulfric, and he stood up from the throne and took her hands.

"Well call you Ice Veins now, for the thick blood of our land has seeped into your heart," he said to her.

The woman bowed her head out of respect and looked at him. They held eye contact for a while, before the Jarl gave her an unexpected embrace. They were lovers, but this kind of behaviour was very out of character. Never had they shown any affection in public, or outside of his chamber. The hall was empty, yet still. It did not take long before he told her what it all was about, though.

"There is a woman here to see you," he said with a comforting tone. "Your mother. Upstairs," he calmly continued and looked up at the ceiling.

Aurora had to catch her breath. Her mother? In Windhelm? In _Skyrim_? The thought was absurd! She had not spoken to her since Aurora ran away from home all those years ago. What reason could she possibly have to come all this way?

No, it could not be. Surely the woman who wished for an audience with her had to be someone else. Even though Aurora dismissed the thought of her mother coming to Skyrim, she still had a nagging fear that it could be the case.

She let go of the Jarl and turned around, still in shock. Slowly, she began the long walk towards her chamber.

Was something wrong with her family? What other reason could her mother to come all this way. How had she found out where she was? Her head began to fill with thousands of questions. She was not ready to meet her mother. Then why was she going upstairs, towards her chamber? She could not answer that either.

Aurora took a deep breath when she placed her hand on the doorknob and closed her eyes. No matter what, she had to meet the person, whoever it was. She must have travelled a long way. The Imperial sighed and opened the door.

The woman stood with her back towards her, but turned her head when she heard that the door was being opened. She was wearing a light blue dress and had her blonde locks in a braid. Aurora's heart sank but jumped back a moment later.

"Delphine, damn it!" she exclaimed and kicked the door shut. "What is wrong with you?! You nearly gave me...!"

"Are we alone?" she asked with a worried tone.

"Yes, Delphine! What are you even doing here?" Aurora inquired angrily.

In all honestly, Aurora knew of the purpose of Delphine's visit, and she knew that she was in trouble. It had been four months since their last encounter, where Aurora had promised the older woman that she would find this Ednar man, or whatever his name was.

The older Imperial walked up to Aurora with confident steps, placing herself only inches away. The Dragonborn was becoming more anxious and nervous by the second, knowing that she was in deep trouble with the Blades woman.

"I told him your father died," Delphine whispered. "Keep that up as a cover."

Aurora closed one of her eyes and tilted her head backwards, preparing for the scolding, and was very surprised with the calm and soft Delphine.

"What in Tamriel have you been doing for the past months, Aurora?!" she suddenly exclaimed. "I told you ages ago that you have to find Esbern! The Thalmor are on to us."

There it came. How silly of her to believe that she had gotten away. Her best option was to remain silent. At least then, Delphine would not use whatever she said against her like she always did. She stood there with her head tilted forwards like a disobedient child.

"Aurora, this is serious!"

"I know that it is! It's just... I can't..." she began, but Delphine did not seem to care for her explanations.

"I spent three months in Cyrodiil, networking and looking for more information on Thalmor movements. Everything points to Riften, and I know you have contacts there."

"Yes, but..."

"So go! Esbern's life hangs on it, and it is only he who can give us adequate information concerning the dragons."

Yes, yes, she knew that already. It was not a question of being informed or not – the issue lay in the fact that it would all become so real if she went out there to search for the man. Besides, she had a civil war to take care of. She had all the Nords in Skyrim to think of, and the Jarl and Galmar counted on her.

"Why now? I'm busy..."

Delphine breathed through her teeth in anger when she heard the young Imperial's excuses. There was nothing more important than finding a way to stop the dragons, and she could not believe that Aurora still did not take it seriously.

"Because if they get to him, there is nothing more we can do. I trust you to make the right decision."

With those words, she turned around and walked up to the door. She left Windhelm the same evening, probably returning to Riverwood. Aurora did not know; one and a half month would pass before the two women would meet again.

* * *

She lay next to him, embraced by his strong and muscular arm. Her head rested against his chest and her hair tickled his stomach playfully. Aurora listened to the man's heartbeat whilst devouring his scent. With him, she could forget about all the problems in the world. The late nights in bed with him were truly joyful, even though she knew that he would be gone by the sunrise, and the only evidence of their night together would be traces in the bed linen, reminding her about the harsh reality that it was in fact just a dream.

In the perfect world, she would never leave his side – never realising that she spent the nights with the wrong man. The erotic moonlight mesmerised her, but the devilish sun would eventually come and leave her there, alone.

The memories would always be there for her, though. She would remember the sight of the cold, white light falling on his chest and side of his face even after many years. Her blood would hit her heart like a blacksmith's hammer and she would be unable to breathe. Two burning bodies would unite in the steaming flame that appeared between them.

Aurora looked up from his chest, to the wide neck and to his face. She let her finger stroke his cheek, particularly the sharp jawbone. His eyes revealed that he was focusing on something in his own thoughts. The eyebrows were tilted towards the nose, giving him more evident lines on the forehead. She looked at his eyes, noticing the wrinkles that surrounded them. The woman let her hand explore his hair, playing with his blond braids with a few gray hairs. He was approaching his fifties, she thought, but she still would not deny him her hand – had he only asked her for it.

"I'm sorry, Aurora," he suddenly said.

Aurora, still in her own thoughts jerked when she heard him. It was not a surprise to her; she knew that it could never be the two of them. He had not showed any signs of affection in public, and it was probably only Galmar who knew about the two of them. It still hurt her, though, for she could not tell whether if it was due to her being an Imperial or a common citizen without blue blood. Most of the time, he did not act as if he cared about her race, but there were those moments when he used the term _Imperial_ as an insult. Never before had she thought of herself as being of an inferior race, even though she spent months in Morrowind with some very racist elves. Aurora was hurt by his cruel words sometimes, but the Jarl was still a good man at heart.

"For what?" she asked him.

He looked at her with his forehead wrinkled.

"Your father," he answered, perplexed over the fact that he had to remind her.

"Oh, right!" Aurora exclaimed. "Yes, thank you."

He looked at her as if to break through her facade. He understood that she was hiding something, based on her confusion. For the hour they had remained silent, he thought that she was grieving. The man observed her facial expression and continued:

"So when are you going to tell me the truth? She isn't your mother," he said, testing her reaction.

Upon noticing that he had been watching her, she realised that there was no point lying. There was no necessity to remain silent, for he would not interfere in her personal tasks. That was not the kind of relationship they had.

"How did you know?" she asked him calmly.

"I have seen her before," he answered with a thoughtful tone. "During the war. I remember her." His expression changed and became more suspicious. "What was a Blade member doing here, Aurora?"

Damn it. This was the issue of having an older lover – they had lived a life before meeting her, meaning that they knew of people she worked with. Apparently, the Nord commander had known a lot of powerful people – Rikke, Elenwen, other Jarls... Blades members.

"She wants me to find a man who's hiding from the Thalmor. I promised I would have done it months ago, but..." she began in a neutral tone.

"A mission for the Dragonborn?"

The woman nodded and there was a pause. The Jarl brought his hand up to his face, thinking. He seemed to be rather distressed, and Aurora too became anxious. She did not like to see him in that state – he always knew what had to be done and how. Now the man seemed to have come to a sudden realisation that his plans would not work.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked after a while.

"I didn't want you to use it as an argument for your cause."

He sat up in bed and turned towards her, taking her hands into his and bringing them to his lips.

"I would never. Haven't you noticed that I call you by your Stormcloak name whilst in public?" The man sighed heavily. "We have more in common than I thought, but this is bad news for me."

"How can it..." she began.

"Because, Aurora, this means you have completely different responsibilities," he answered with a tone that made her shiver. It was as if he had given up. "I can't send you out on other missions."

"What?!" she exclaimed in shock.

"You have to take care of the dragons. Even if we win the war... If the dragons aren't stopped, it will all be for nothing."

Her heart wanted to jump out of her chest, and she began to breathe quickly. Her eyes would not focus on a specific point, and ran all over his face. No, she would not leave his side in a time like this when she was needed the most! He could not send her away to the abyss like that, that was not fair. The woman was becoming dizzy and started to panic.

"I'm not ready!"

"You will never be. No one is ever ready for the horror that lays before them, but you must do what you can regardless," he said calmly, taking her hands again.

"I can't..."

She was crying, but he no longer showed any signs of sympathy. In stead, he took her by her arms and shook her whilst saying her name. The woman once again began to hysterically beat him on the chest, but her dizziness took the best of her.

"Behave like the Dragonborn you are, Aurora! Does it have to take for the Blades to personally show up here...? You have to step up and take responsibility for once!"

"I do!" she cried.

"If you did, you wouldn't be here! You would be out there, finding means, finding ways to stop them. Damn you!" he cursed her with an angry tone that frightened her. "How many Shouts do you know?"

"A few..."

"That isn't enough. You should be exploring the ancient tombs and ruins in search of more of them..." He took pity on her when seeing the hysterical woman fighting her inner demons. She seemed petrified, frail. He could not believe that the destiny of mankind lay in her hands. "Why are you crying?" he asked her with the most gentle tone he could, embracing her.

"I can't handle it, my Jarl! I'll be killed as soon as I...!"

He pressed her harder to his chest and placed a hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair whilst she sobbed like a child. They sat like that whilst the candles burned out and the chamber became dark. She listened to his heartbeat and hoped all the problems would disappear whilst clinging onto him, smelling his scent. He was her rock and Aurora could not believe that it now was he who pushed her from the cliff. She cursed her destiny and the Gods for making her Dragonborn. She did not need it – she did not need the glory or the honour. Those were for the foolish and the unaware. Aurora only wished for a normal life.

"You have to take responsibility now, there is no choice," the man said. "Or else the whole world as we know it might disappear."


	12. Goodbye, Stormcloak

The warm leather jacket made her very warm, but she knew that she would be grateful for it within an hour in the harsh winter climate. This also applied to the helmet that had been hidden beneath the bed for all too long.

That armour really was heavy, Aurora thought when she lifted the cuirass over her head and placed it on her shoulders. The buckles seemed so unfamiliar, but the fit was even worse. She remembered that it once felt like a second skin, but that was different now. The chest piece was all right on the top half, but her arm pieces and the lower part of the cuirass would make the skin sore within hours, she thought. She really had to make it fit again, but it would require a lot of training. It scared her how much muscle mass she had lost during the past few months.

It squeaked as metal was rubbed against metal, making it very bad for surprise attacks, but she would have to live with it. With a lot of training and food, she could be back to her normal weight in three months or so. The woman would force meat down her throat if she had to – it was necessary for her survival. It had been irresponsible of her to let herself decline to that state, but it would be different from now on. The Jarl was right. She had no choice.

Aurora could not understand how she had gone from a confident warrior that broke into Thalmor embassies and slayed dragons to what she had become. She did not fear her destiny before, but now all of a sudden, it had become so real. When she found Esbern, that would be it – she would have to go after all sorts of dangerous monsters. Alone.

The woman put her gauntlets on and sat down on the bed, looking into the fireplace. Her sword and shield were placed next to her, and the warm light from the fire was reflected in the blade. This was it, then. She left her Stormcloak uniform on a chair and walked out of the room.

The Jarl was standing next to the table in the Strategy Room when Aurora walked down the stairs. They both stopped for a while and looked at one another before the woman continued towards him and fell down on one knee in front of her Jarl. She looked down on his feet, but the man took her hand and forced her to her feet.

"I was worried that you were angry with me," the woman said with her voice full of shame.

"You are young, Aurora. I truly feel for you."

He leaned closer to her and lifted one hand. The Jarl softly let it stroke his Dragonborn's cheek. He seemed so much older that day; his face appeared to be wrinkled due to a sleepless night, his eyes heavy and tired. The man had not bothered braiding his hair, and since he never wore a crown, it made him look like a common man.

The Jarl let his fingers continue towards her neck, making her shiver. The woman drowned in the moment, holding on to it as if letting go would mean the end of her.

"I see that you wear your old armour again. Does it mean...?"

He was silent for a while, pondering over the consequences of finishing the sentence. It hurt him more than he thought it would, but there was no question over whether if she should go or not. The Gods had decided that long ago, he just wished that Talos would guide her on her mission. It was time, though. It was bound to happen at some point, and this moment was as good as any.

"Do you know what to do next?" he asked her, bowing his head to look into her eyes.

_Yes_, she formed with her lips and nodded, looking at him in a way that would melt any man's heart. He stood there, silent, merely looking at her for a moment before opening his mouth, only to close it a second later.

Aurora's forehead was wrinkled in sorrow, but so was the Jarl's. He hid his emotions better, she would give him that, but it was evident that he forced himself to self-control. He was preparing to say something, but he did not wish for his voice to break when the words would escape his lips. So there they stood, alone, in silence.

"Then it appears as if I have to let you go," he finally said.

Aurora threw herself into his arms, and he held her there, pressing her as close as he could. A tear dropped from her eyes, but she was calm this time. She was afraid, but not panic-stricken anymore. It was she that broke the embrace and took a step back. He turned around as soon as she did so and turned his heel and walked up the stairs.

She saw him disappear behind the wall and swallowed hard.

He had been right again, the other night. Every time she had to step up and do what was needed, she fled. Aurora ran her life story since coming to Skyrim through her mind. When Vipir began to ask uncomfortable questions, she did the only thing that could distance him from her – sleep with another man. When the Guild needed their new leader, she left for Whiterun. She was alone and would probably remain that for the rest of her life. She could not handle the job Brynjolf was doing, she could not lead people. The woman was not emotionally ready, and she knew it herself. It was just difficult to acknowledge something of that sort.

What in Tamriel was Kodlak thinking of when he made her Harbinger? She was useless at handling people; besides, none of her shield-siblings respected her enough to listen to her. They had all been there longer than she had, and they all knew Kodlak for longer than she.

She was unworthy calling herself Dragonborn, just like she was an unworthy Harbinger. At least the responsibility of leading the Guild was not on her. It had bloomed under Brynjolf's control, and she had no part in it.

This was her battle though. There were others who could lead the Guild and the Companions, but there was only one Dragonborn– and she would face it. She would do what she had to – she would do what she could.


	13. There are many Rats in the Ratway

She did not know if it was just in her head, or if the air in Riften really bore a strong scent of mischief. After being away from it for a considerable amount of time, it felt good to return to the familiar streets.

The climate was warmer there in the south and almost reminded her of the winters in northern Cyrodiil. Aurora knew that she would not be there for long, though. She just needed to find the man who was hiding in the Ratway, and then she would search for those Word Walls that were scattered across Skyrim.

The woman was headed towards the secret entrance to the Guild when she noticed the temple on her left side. When living in Riften, she had never visited it. She was not a particularly religious person, even though she had the pleasure of speaking to a few of the Gods. They all seemed to have their own agenda every time she spoke to one of them, so Aurora had decided to avoid them altogether. There was this nagging thought, though. She did not want to think of it – the time she had spent with the Companions. The effect of doing so made her curl in pain. It was like losing her heart, her own flesh and blood all over again.

Temple of Mara. She had not thought of it earlier, but now it seemed to make sense. The woman stood in front of the stairs, thinking of whether it was a good idea or not to visit it. Aurora decided that she could try it, so she ascended the stairs and walked in.

The temple looked just like she had imagined it – a lot of wood, an altar and some benches. Two priests were meditating, so Aurora tiptoed inside and took her place on the front row.

"So... Mara. I haven't really been... involved in your world. By your, I mean the Gods'," she began. "I'm Aurora, by the way. Dragonborn," the woman continued with all but a serious expression on her face. "Em... I have never asked for anything of you, but now I'm desperate. I can't live like this. If I can't have him, at least let me forget him. Whatever you can do, please do it. Let me escape my pain."

She felt utterly ridiculous sitting there and talking out loud with other people present. This was hopeless. Mara could probably not care less about her, making it a waste of time. Time she did not have.

She felt sorry for herself. There were too many burdens to bear, and the heartache had proved to be the most difficult one as it overshadowed her completely. Yet she still had to do something about the dragon invasion, and the sooner the better. Perhaps she should hurry to do what Delphine asked her to ages ago. Yes, a trip to the Guild would be in order.

* * *

Meeting up with her old siblings-in-crime was nice, but she was still sceptic about the new ones. Aurora thought that the Ragged Flagon and the Cistern were becoming over-crowded with so many people running in and out all the time. As soon as she sat down to have a drink from the bar with Vex and Delvin, hooded men with bows came up to them, asking who she was. She spent a few hours there, waiting to see Brynjolf before going into the Ratway. The woman thought that he, as Guildmaster should have some information on Esbern's whereabouts. Vex said that Brynjolf would return the same evening, so there was no option but to wait.

Not much had changed since her last visit to the Guild, apart from the weight of the members' pockets. Apparently, business was thriving and they made loads of gold. Karliah, although no longer an official member, seemed to take care of the organisation anyway.

Well, one thing had changed. Vipir did his best to seduce Sapphire, and even though his labour bore no fruit, Aurora was still happy for his sake. He was an icebrain, but with a kind heart. She was sorry that she had hurt him previously, especially since she knew for herself what infidelity felt like for the other person. Even though the woman felt a strong regret, she could not make herself walk up to him and apologise. So much time had passed, and everything was awkward as it was. He would probably not forgive her anyway.

It was close to midnight when the red-haired man finally walked through the door. Aurora embraced him and gave the man a quick smile. He had not changed at all; it was as if sun and wind had no impact on his skin. The few lines she could spot were there the last time she saw him too.

The Guildmaster grinned from ear to ear and looked very glad to have her back. He smelled awful, though. He stank of sewers.

The pair walked away from the other people, searching for privacy as always. Judging by his body language and how he held his hand on the lower part of Aurora's back, she knew that he wished for more than she would give, but the woman let it pass for the moment. Brynjolf took her to the empty stand, gazing at her from time to time as they walked.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked her.

She had answered that question twenty times that evening, but Brynjolf deserved her patience. Even though they had drifted apart, he remained a good man. The woman had been looking at her feet, but raised her gaze when he asked her the question.

"A job. There's this man hiding in the Ratway," she answered neutrally, trying to break the tension he created by placing his hand on her.

"There are many rats in the Ratway," he stated with a slightly worried tone, but continued walking. "Especially lately," the man added.

Upon noticing that Aurora seemed very interested, he stopped. The woman placed herself close to him and looked at the thief as if she was about to interrogate him. He knew her too well, and he knew there was no point trying to talk her out of her adventures. When she set her mind to something, she would accomplish it no matter what barricades were thrown at her.

"Sapphire barely made her way out in one piece," he stated.

The woman's expression changed too, but more in concern for her sister-in-crime than for what could happen to herself once she set her foot inside of those sewers. Aurora crossed her arms and looked slightly shocked.

"What happened?"

"It's been getting crowded in there," the man answered. "Sapphire was about to hide something down there, but the moment she opened the door – someone casted a spell at her. I went in there earlier, but the intruders had moved further away. There's no question of who they are, though."

"Thalmor?"

The man nodded with his eyes half-closed, but Aurora was already deep inside her own mind. The Thalmor weren't really an issue; in fact, she could take care of them easily – if she had the advantage of a surprise attack. This would probably not be the fact, though. They knew that she was coming, and they were prepared. That was why Sapphire was attacked as soon as she opened the door.

"The man who hides there – I must speak to him," she told Brynjolf, her look asking for more information.

"Be my guest. He resides in the last room, down a few levels. There will probably be a lot of fighting, though."

"Probably, but I'm the best warrior in Skyrim, so..."

"Cocky now, aren't we, lass?" he laughed.

How nice it was not to have an overprotective man watching her every move, the woman thought. It was not that Brynjolf did not care for her – he simply trusted her abilities. The woman could not do anything but smile.

"Come here," Brynjolf told her with a deep voice and took her arm, pulling her closer.

As he embraced the woman, she began planning for the mission that lay ahead. She had no idea what that Esbern looked like, but imagined him to be a slightly mentally disturbed chap after all those years living in the Ratway. Hopefully, there would be no need for questions once she came to his rescue. If he was alive, that would be. If the Thalmor found him... Gods help her.

Without a warning, her lips were pressed towards Brynjolf's. His arms were wrapped around her, but she could not understand how it happened. She felt nothing when kissing him. There were no butterflies and her heart was not jumping. In fact, she found the situation to be rather annoying as it took time from her planning. She pushed him away.

"Brynjolf, I've got a job to do," she said warningly, though not with an unfriendly tone.

The man in front of her smiled seductively and threw his arms to the side. For the first time, she had turned Brynjolf down, and for that she gave herself a pat on the shoulder.

"Can't it wait?"

"It's been waiting too long already," she smiled.

She could not possibly feel offended by his actions – on the contrary. It felt good to know that men still wanted her, good-looking thieves in particular.

That was not important anymore, she told herself. She had to give all of herself to the mission that lay ahead. As soon as she opened that door, spells could be thrown at her. She had no idea of how many they were – there could be dozens of those cheating, dishonourable bastards. There was only way finding out, though, and it was to throw herself into the Ratway.

She had been there before, when Brynjolf first told her about the Guild. He had tested her by sending her down to the Ratway, so she knew about some of the people that resided there. Beggars and lowlifes mostly, but she had never imagined that sane men would live there.

The woman nodded towards Brynjolf as to say goodbye. A long time would pass before they saw each other again, but they did not know it then. She turned around and walked up to the door, taking a deep breath before slowly unlocking the door.

The lock made a sound when she twisted the key, and she hoped it would not be noticed by the Thalmor. She waited for a few minutes before she opened it slightly, in case there were elves present. An inch, then another. Nothing but darkness and silence. Aurora held onto her sword as she took her first steps into the Ratway. She closed the door behind her without making a sound and stopped for a while to let her eyes get accustomed to the dark sewers. A few minutes later, she noticed that she was in a rather large hall-like room. There were multiple levels and vaults, some with fencing.

The woman knew exactly where she was and had an idea of where she was going, but she had to kill every single Thalmor agent before reaching Esbern. It was always easier to take care of the enemy by herself than having to protect an imbecile who knew nothing of fighting and only put him- or herself in dangerous situations. Besides, that Esbern had to be really old.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming from behind the left wall. She put her shield down and took a firmer grip around the handle of the sword, raising it to shoulder level. The steps were light and appeared to be female. She was probably tired, for she dragged her feet behind her. Aurora lowered her centre of mass by bending her knees and placed herself right by the edge. The steps came closer, and Aurora guessed that the other woman was a patrolling soldier, alone in this part of the Ratway. As soon as the Dragonborn could hear the other person's breathing, she threw her arm out, gripping the soldier by her neck and pulling her behind the edge. Without hesitation and before the elf had time to scream for help, Aurora cut her throat, silently catching the soldier's body and placing it on the floor. It had gone exactly according to plan and was rather neatly done. She had not made a mess by letting the elf scream and warn her kin.

There was no need to it, though. Aurora had failed to spot the group of four or five Thalmor agents that were standing on the other side of the room, two on the same level as she. All of a sudden, spells were flying towards her, and the Imperial had to hide behind the wall. She had seconds to decide what to do; she could either run out through the door and wait for another day or push on, but retreating was not an option as that would give them time to find Esbern.

Aurora took the Spellbreaker and held it up in front of her, running towards the attackers. She could see the spells missing her, casting a fiery or purple light towards the wall. Within moments, she could also feel them hit her shield, pressing her arm back against her chest in the process. It was difficult to withstand, and the pressure made her arm ache. When she finally reached the elves, the woman had worked up such a velocity that she pushed one of them over the edge. The other tried to shoot a spell at her, but missed. When Aurora regained balance, she swung at him as hard as she could.

The blade slammed him in the side, but the Thalmor was wearing a cuirass that protected him from the worst hits. He was given a few moments when the woman reloaded, and managed to hit her thighs with a spell. The metal became flamingly hot, burning her skin even though she wore leather pants. The woman screamed and lost her focus for a moment, allowing the man to escape by running through a vault, probably to await reinforcement.

The woman was down on one knee, but knew that it would be ten times harder to kill that bastard if he would reach the other Thalmor agents that were probably on their way up too. She forced herself up and began to limp after him, losing yards on him for every step.

She followed him through the vault and noticed, to her joy, that he had slipped and had fallen when the corridor turned to the left. She was only a few steps behind him and raised the Spellbreaker as he desperately tried to cast a spell. He prepared one and turned around to fire it, but it did not do much harm as her shield protected her. Instead, the attempt at killing the Dragonborn cost the Thalmor his life when he failed to notice a trap that fell right onto his head, crushing it. Aurora stopped and jumped to the side as the spiky, metal object was thrown from the man to the wall and then just hung by its chain from the ceiling.

Happy for not being the Thalmor and giggling at his stupidity, Aurora slowly passed the trap, ending up in front of a door. Knowing that the Thalmor already spotted her, she did not care for surprise attacks and therefore just opened it. A long corridor took her to a small room that was lit up by torches. The woman could hear footsteps of two people close by and prepared herself for combat.

The first Thalmor appeared from behind the wall and, to Aurora's great amusement, held a conjured weapon. The weapon itself was probably alright, but the woman had doubts when it came to the bearer. A mage turned warrior was an easy enemy.

Sadly, she was wrong. Well, not entirely, for the problem was she rather than the elf. Her hits had no power behind them, rendering them practically meaningless as her enemy wore armour. For the first time, she had a reason to fear for her life. The other Thalmor appeared and casted a spell towards her that only by incident hit his companion rather than her. The elf was cooked alive inside of his metal armour.

The caster conjured a sword, but Aurora had the situation under control. She raised her shield horizontally and swung it at him, hitting the unprotected neck, making the Thalmor fall to the ground, after what she quickly let her sword fall to his neck, almost beheading him. Aurora did not stay to look at the result.

She continued forwards and ended up one level beneath from where she started. She was sure this was where the other Thalmor agents stood, but there was no sign of them. Perhaps they had gone further in, maybe to kill Esbern. One floor down, she could see another vault, and realised that was the only way out.

The woman jumped down, but it was not a nice landing as it hurt to bend her knee due to the burn she got earlier. Limping forwards, she noticed that there were traces on the floor leading towards a new door.

Aurora followed them to a dark corridor where she immediately heard strange sounds. They appeared to be coming from a woman who chanted something. Aurora's thoughts went to the necromancers she encountered at times when travelling Skyrim, only it would not make much sense to meet one in the Riften sewers. She stopped for a moment and listened carefully.

"Bucket. Knife. Book. Inkpot. Stone. No, no, no," she mumbled.

There was no question about it; she must be crazy, Aurora thought, but it would not stop her. If she silently could reach the stairs on the other side of a locked gate, she could find Esbern without having to meet with the weird people living here.

The gate was opened easily and Aurora only needed one lockpick. She hinges were probably as old as the rest of the Ratway, meaning that they squeaked like skeevers when she pushed it open. Oddly, the mumbling woman did not seem to notice.

"Knife. Yes. Book. Yes. Bucket. Yes. Inkpot? No."

_Oh shut up_, Aurora thought. She was just about to walk up the stairs when she noticed a door to the left. The woman bent her knees and prepared her sword, slowly walking up to the door whilst taking a good look around the hall to ensure herself that there were no Thalmor there.

She kicked the door open, but only noticed a man in rugged clothing sitting on a chair.

"Oh, excuse me," she said, but the man did not seem to notice. He appeared to have been whispering for a good while before the woman even set her foot in his room.

"Their fires lit up the night, all across Lake Rumare, like stars come to earth," he sighed. "It was beautiful, really."

"Lake Rumare? Is that where you're from? I too was born in the Imperial City," Aurora told him.

"I had a medal. It had someone's face on it. I threw it away after. It didn't help."

"You were a Legionnaire? An officer perhaps?"

"They were golden, even when they were dead. But their blood was red. I knew it would be."

She knew that he was mentally disturbed, but it hurt her to leave him there. They were kin; they were both Imperials in Skyrim. Perhaps they were even from the same town. It was sad what war did to people. The Great War, what an awful period in the history. Once a decorated soldier, now a lowlife in the sewers of a foreign land.

With a heavy heart, she left him in peace and walked up the stairs to the second level, still looking for evidence of Thalmor activity. She was almost tiptoeing, trying to avoid drawing attention to her. At the end of the balcony, she could see yet another door. As this was the place where the crazy people lived, it would not be far fetched to think that Esbern also resided there. Aurora approached the door and knocked on it.

"Go away!" a male voice cried.

"Esbern? Open the door. I'm a friend," Aurora said.

"What? No, that's not me. I'm not Esbern. I don't know what you're talking about."

Dear Gods. She assumed that he would be slightly paranoid, but the years down in the sewers must have done more to him than she previously thought.

"The Thalmor found you. You need to get out of here."

"Oh, how reassuring! Most likely you're with the Thalmor and this is just a trick to get me to open the door!"

She assumed that it would come up, and Delphine had warned her.

"Delphine said to _remember the 30th of Frostfall_."

"Ah... Indeed, indeed. I do remember. Delphine really is alive then? You'd better come in then and tell me how you found me and what you want."

His logic stunned her. He would not let her in at first, but had she been a Thalmor, she would just have shot an arrow through the hatch. She shook her head as she thought of how stupid he was. There was no way he could help her with the dragons.

"This will just take a moment," he assured her as he began to unlock the door.

It took him an absurd amount of time. So long that once he was half way through, she had already been attacked and almost killed by the remaining Thalmor. She would rather have it that way, though, than to fight them with the icebrain.

* * *

**I'm sorry for the absurdly long chapter (and the last one which was rather short), but I like to keep things that belong together in one instead of spreading them out. This was Part I. The next chapter will be updated within a week (probably) and equally long.**


	14. Part II

The woman hurried down the stairs in the dark hall. Esbern was sitting by the dinner table with a book in front of him whilst Delphine went back and forth to the fire. Aurora had been very keen on returning to Sky Haven Temple, for this time, she would announce her departure. Her fellow Blades members were arguing about something and did not appear to have noticed the Dragonborn entering the building, so Aurora decided to sit down. Hidden by the shadows, she remained unnoticed while observing the others.

"I've been chronicling the recent history of the Blades. What would you like your entry to say?" Esbern asked.

"I survived?" the Grandmaster suggested neutrally.

"Come on. You did more than just survive all those years. Your evasion of the Thalmor would be useful for future Blades to study."

Aurora did not particularly enjoy the company of either Esbern or Delphine, but the man's obsequious behaviour was a finger in the eye. Apparently, the Grandmaster seemed to agree, for she stopped and turned around.

"What?" she said sarcastically. "Your heroic tale of locking yourself in the Ratway for years isn't enough?"

Aurora could not help but to laugh. Trying to hide her giggle in her hands was not an option, for both Esbern and Delphine had turned their attention to the figure on the stairs. The woman wrinkled her forehead as she gazed at the Dragonborn and tilted her head slightly to the back.

"Finally, Aurora! Where have you been?"

The younger woman sighed and got up. She walked down towards the table and threw a look at Esbern's book, ignoring the Grandmaster. She sat down next to him and placed the things she had been carrying on the chair to the left of her.

"Calm down, Delphine. I'm not running away."

"One can never be too sure," she answered, coming up to the table. "That Elder Scroll has been lying here for weeks now."

She placed her hands on the chair in front of her and nodded towards the sleeping quarters. Aurora was sick and tired of her constantly complaining about something. It was not as if Aurora ever was given a day of resting after exploring a new tomb or riding all the way to the Sea of Ghosts in search of a lunatic living on a desolate island. Too many times, Delphine made the Dragonborn sharpen an imaginary dagger in frustration.

"Yes, because before I go to the Throat of the World again, I need this," Aurora answered and stood up, pointing at herself.

"An armour?"

"You are always so cynical, Delphine. It's not _just_ an armour– it's ebony."

"I don't care," Delphine answered with a warning tone. "I just want you to get the job done."

"But I looked forward to telling you about all its peculiarities," Aurora complained and threw her arms out whilst the Grandmaster turned away and walked up to the fire. "Ebony, Delphine! _Ebony_. And a Gray-Mane."

Suddenly, the older Imperial turned to face her with a very angry look.

"You went to Whiterun?"

"No, I found it in a tomb, sent it to Whiterun to be refitted and then to Markarth with a courier. Anything to eat?" she asked to change the subject.

"Look, we don't have time to hunt every day. Just take whatever you find."

"I thought living with someone your age would imply sweetrolls and home-made stew, but I guess I was wrong," Aurora said with an intended sense of longing in her voice.

Delphine threw her a killing gaze in reply whilst the old man next to her desperately tried to hide his red face in one hand, holding the other pressed against his mouth.

"You two are unbearable," Aurora stated and pointed at the two of them. How she loved to drive Delphine crazy.

* * *

The woman would never get used to the horrifying cold of Skyrim, especially the daunting wind of the heights. This time, she had prepared for the trip by buying a few potions from the Hag's Cure. They were clinking against one another in her bag, which she carried over the left shoulder. More than half of them had been used up already, but she only had a few hundred steps to go.

She had been running the different Thu'ums through her head as she jogged up the seven thousand stairs, but now nothing could help her anymore. Her success was depending entirely on her fighting skills and ability to keep her head cool, but she knew the stakes were not with her.

Aurora had learned Shout after Shout, but most importantly – gotten relative peace of mind. She did not fear him anymore – the Worldeater. If she were to die today, at least she would be welcomed to Sovngarde. No one else could do the work for her, meaning that climbing the Throat of the World was a necessity rather than an option.

There was not much left to do about the dragons, but what had to be done required much preparation. It had taken her nearly four months to find and learn enough Thu'ums and freshen up her fighting abilities. The woman tested a few Shouts on the Draugr, Necromancers and bandits she encountered on her journeys, and she had taken a liking to a few of them in particular. Some came in handy during battles whilst others were more for showing off, even though the only ones she showed them for were Thalmor and other enemies. The Jarl's disappointment still hung over her, but Aurora did compromise a little.

Finally, she had reached the top. The skies were clear, the two moons fully visible and the view completely stunning. In the far distance, she could see the light from Riverwood, the hill at which Dragonsreach was built and Ivarstead. For a moment, she admired the beauty of Skyrim. _Yes_, she thought for herself. _I want to live and I want to die in the North_. She should have been born a Nord. To protect these lands was her destiny.

Such power, such unearthly power she possessed. It was incredible how intensively the fire of a Dovah burned. She felt invincible – both physically and mentally. The effects of a Thu'um were astonishing, and she could not even imagine the fear her enemies felt when placed in front of her. Her armour enhanced this effect. The black horn-like features on her helmet and the sharp angles of her armour must have been terrifying to be put up against.

That was on mere mortals, though. This time it was a dragon who would challenge her, and not just any dragon – the _Worldeater_. His mere name sent shivers down people's spines. This time it would be her against him – human against beast, Dovahkiin against Dovah.

The woman gripped the Elder Scroll and turned around, walking towards Paarthurnax. The dragon welcomed her, noticing that there was something different about her, but the woman could not listen to his words. She had only one thing in mind.

With determined steps, she walked up to the Time Wound and closed her eyes. This was it then. This was how her story ended – the story of an Imperial from Cyrodiil died for Skyrim and her people. The woman was not angry or bitter anymore. So many people had died before her, in the Great War, in the Civil... In accidents and in bandit raids. She was not different.

With a sigh, she held the Elder Scroll in front of her. So old and frail, yet containing information powerful enough to destroy the Worldeater. The woman gripped the necklace she bore. _Talos guide me_.

A spider web made up from a bright light with circles and to Aurora unknown symbols appeared before her. They made no sense to her, but she felt as if she had seen them before. The web was then replaced by a tunnel of light. Everything became so bright. The woman raised her hand to protect the eyes, but it made no difference. As suddenly as it had appeared, it was replaced by a red setting.

It felt like a dream. A very real one, yet still a dream. It was set on a mountaintop where two people were running from a landing dragon. It looked like an ordinary Dovah, of the same sort Aurora had killed many times.

One of the men came back with his battleaxe prepared. He was dressed like an old Nord, and his appearance resembled one too. He held his weapon confidently whilst another dragon flew only yards above him, shouting.

"For Skyrim!" the man yelled, leaping forwards in an attack.

The dragon sent a bolt of fire at him. Aurora stopped breathing when she thought of how horribly hot it must have been. His armour was burning even after the dragon ran out of fire, and it must have been extremely painful. The woman remembered the burn she got from a Thalmor in the Riften Ratway.

When the man had swung at the dragon three or four times, another person came – woman with a sword. She jumped up on the Dovah's head, killing it by piercing its throat with her weapon. Looking as if it was something she did on a daily basis, she then jumped down and walked up to the man.

"The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not accept rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost."

"You worry too much, brother. Victory will be ours."

"Why does Alduin hang back? We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man."

A third voice was heard, and the two fighters turned their attention towards an older man. Dragons were flying above them, casting shadows on the ground as they passed the flaming moonlight.

"He will come. He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?"

Aurora stopped listening while the Nords argued over something. It felt as if her head would explode. A terrible tension was building up, and the woman pressed her hands against her head, desperately trying to take the helmet off.

"They did not have Dragonrend. Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head," the woman said.

"You do not understand. Alduin cannot be slayed like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength. Which is why I have brought the Elder Scroll."

"Felldir! We agreed not to use it!" the younger man exclaimed.

The shadow of the dragons once again covered the men. Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently. A grey Dovah approached from the air, making a terrible, frightening noise. Alduin.

The three warriors stepped aside as the dragon landed. They seemed so courageous, so determined, as if they were not concerned by the deadly situation they were in. The Worldeater with his horrible, dark voice began to say something Aurora could not understand. She did not know how she would have reacted, had she been one of them. The woman could only stand there as if frozen in time. Not a single thought reached its goal in her head. She was completely blank. Fascinated, mesmerised, yet blank.

All of the Nords three yelled something. A Thu'um, but she had never heard it before. A blue fire suddenly lit up around the Worldeater. It was loud – the light was loud, sounding like heavy rain and thunder. A second later, she understood it. It came over her like a wave with all of its speed and weight. Dragonrend.

"_Nivahriin joorre_! What have you done?" he exclaimed in shock, making the ground shake merely with the voice. "What twisted Words have you created?! _Tahrodiis Paarthurnax_! My teeth to his neck!"

Two of the warriors attacked him with their weapons. The third and oldest followed suit. They appeared to be helpless flies, annoying a monster rather than doing any harm. It only took moments for the dragon to bite one, shaking her from side to side and tearing the victim into pieces. Her lifeless body was then thrown off the cliff into the abyss.

"It's no use! Use the Scroll, Felldir! Now!" The second warrior was badly hurt and kneeling when Alduin turned against him.

The older man began to read the Elder Scroll, but once again, Aurora could not hear it. Her head ached so badly, but this time, her helmet was thrown to the ground. The sound of the rain and thunder bombarded her, but she did not fear him. A green fire bolt imploded, taking the dragon with it. After this, Aurora was no longer a welcomed guest in the world of memories. The spider web once again covered her entire vision, after what it became eaten by the light.

She opened her eyes and gasped for breath. The Elder Scroll had fallen to the ground, and the first thing Aurora did when she regained her senses was to carefully place it in her bag whilst running up to some rocks, hiding it there.

The woman threw a gaze at Paarthurnax who had been observing at her with his intelligent eyes. What a true hero he was. The old Nords that had been shown to her by the Elder Scroll seemed to have had help from him, at least based on Alduin's reaction. The Worldeater had cursed Paarthurnax, implying that he had defied his kin once before. Not only his kin, but also the Firstborn of Akatosh.

Suddenly, the same deep, thundering noise that had been heard in the vision echoed between the mountaintops. He was there.

Aurora was not even thinking. She did not let herself do anything as stupid as that, for it would only frighten her, forcing her to flee. A warrior was successful when her actions were based on instinct rather than reason, and that would be the case here. The woman did not think of the grey dragon's frightening horns, his ground shaking screams or the fact that the entire sky changed when he approached. The heaven was covered with clouds, the wind grew stronger, and all of a sudden, rocks began to fall towards the ground.

"JOOR ZAH FRUL" Aurora shouted.

The dragon made a loud noise and went in for landing. His massive wings almost threw Aurora to the ground as they spread when his feet touched the ground. With a _swish_, a stone approached the point where the woman stood, and she was forced to leap to the left to avoid being hit. It crashed against the ground at the same moment as the Worldeater opened his jaws and projectiled a terrible, icy fire at her.

She had never experienced such pain before. It was as if every ligament was being torn from the bones it connected, as if her bones were being pushed apart. Her skin felt as if it had been perforated by a million nails and salt rubbed into the wounds. The woman screamed, and with all of her mind power, managed to raise the Spellbreaker.

Suddenly, it stopped, and Aurora felt normal again. It only took a few seconds for her to recover. _I understand your tactics, Aludin_, she whispered before she attacked him with her sword. The fizzling electricity from the blade continued inside her enemy. She struck him directly in the head, but even with all her power, she could not manage to penetrate those scales.

"You wield the weapon of my ancient foes, but you are not their equal," he groaned with his mystic, dark voice.

She would not let herself be provoked by such a statement. It was not true, and she knew it. Within minutes, she would prove the same thing to him.

All of a sudden, the spell broke. The dragon lit up, his eyes smug. Once again, the ground shook as he left it and headed towards the sky. Stunned, Aurora could not do anything for a few moments, but it was enough time for him to escape. She shouted, but missed her target.

The stone rain became heavier, and she had to leap from side to side to avoid being hit by the falling rocks. When they fell from the sky, a tail of fire followed, making it dangerous even to be close.

Paarthurnax left his place on the word wall and flew up to challenge Alduin, but there was nothing Aurora could do but to wait for her nerves to calm down and use Dragonrend once again. She did not have her bow with her, for she thought it would be useless against the Worldeater's massively thick scales. The woman tried to stay focused, but doing so while avoiding the meteor shower was difficult to say the least. She closed her eyes for a moment and gripped her necklace.

"Talos, a little help would've been in handy, you lazy bastard!" she whispered whilst trying to focus on her inner harmony.

When she opened her eyes, a massive rock was only yards above her. The woman threw herself to the side, but landed on uneven ground and hurt her head slightly. The world was shaking around her, but she did not know if it was due to her dizziness or if Alduin was trying to land.

She turned her gaze and noticed that one of the dragons was right above her, but she could not figure out which. Her helmet lay next to her, but she did not bother to put it on. The weather was bad, fire and snow were blown in her face, and therefore she could not compromise her vision any further. The woman got up. She was prepared, but did not know where to aim.

Aurora thought for a moment and realised that Alduin would not just have positioned himself above her without trying to do some damage. When she looked around, she noticed the other dragon circling the mountaintop.

"JOOR ZAH FRUL" she yelled for the third time.

This time, she had hit him. Only just, but it was good enough. Alduin's cry must have been heard over the entire surrounding landscape, and the woman almost had to cover her ears.

He landed on the flat spot in front of her, and the woman raised the Spellbreaker and leapt forwards. When he casted his magic at her, she was thrown backwards, but remained on her feet. Paarthurnax landed directly opposite Alduin and sent a column of fire at him, nearly avoiding Aurora. The woman saw her opportunity and raised her blade, running beneath the dragon's throat and all the way to his rear legs. Thankfully, it appeared as she had done at least some damage before the Worldeater realised what had happened. His cry echoed once again.

Moments later, he shouted and the heavy rain of rocks and fire returned. _Of course_, Aurora though. _It was a Thu'um_! She had an idea. It might not work, but she had nothing to lose. Whilst Alduin was occupied with fighting Paarthurnax, the woman had some seconds to gather her thoughts and remember a Shout that she seldomly used.

"LOK," she yelled, and to her surprise, the weather cleared.

Alduin did not seem to notice, for Paarthurnax was grilling him with fire attacks, but after his mistake that led to the wound on his stomach, he did keep an eye on the Dragonborn. He noticed that she was trying to surround him and swung with his tail. There was nothing she could do but to jump, but no one could jolt high enough to avoid a dragon's tail.

It hit her on the knees, throwing the woman many yards to the left. She felt like a rag doll in a dog's jaws, being tossed away across the room. The Dragonborn landed rather harshly on a burning rock and struggled to get up, but she knew that if she let Alduin escape the spell, she and Paarthurnax would be in a problematic situation.

"JOOR ZAH FRUL" the woman shouted again, aiming at Alduin.

It hurt to get up, but she had no option but to fight the pain and stand on her feet. This time she screamed before raising her sword and ran towards the dragon. Alduin seemed to be slightly confused, for his gaze went from Paarthurnax to the Dragonborn and back within moments. Aurora bent her knees and ran beneath his left wing with her blade up in the air. This time, she did considerable amount of damage to him.

The Worldeater groaned and began to stamp with both feet to scare the woman away. She ran to his other side and further away from him with the dragon shooting fire after her. _Bugger, bugger, bugger_! When it hit her in the back, she threw herself in the snow trying to cover herself with the Spellbreaker. Her skin hurt so badly from the icy fire and she was becoming physically exhausted. Alduin was not like any other enemy she had ever encountered before. He was massive, mighty – a fallen God. He was not from Oblivion, he _was_ it.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar sound of falling meteors. The ground shook below Aurora when they crushed against it. The woman looked at Alduin. He was limping! He too was exhausted!

"LOK VAH!" she shouted.

Forcing herself up once again, she knew that the battle would not last much longer. All three of them were tired, wounded and drained of stamina. Never had her sword felt so heavy as when she tried to raise it at that moment. When she understood that she would not be able to swing it hard enough with one hand, she threw the Spellbreaker to the ground.

It landed in the snow. That was it then – she was completely unprotected from the horrific cold fire of the Worldeater. The Dragonborn turned to face her nemesis. She gathered all her willpower and determination and held the pommel of the Dragonbane in front of her with both hands. Aurora caressed the tilt. Quickly, and with the elegance of a Redguard master, she spun it around her right shoulder. She was one with her blade and this time, she possessed the power required to be a true warrior.

The Dovahkiin stormed forwards, ignoring the heat of Paarthurnax's flames that warmed her back. She gathered her strength and swung at Alduin's left wing. It went right through, and the dragon released all his anger with a mighty yell.

"_Meyz mul_, Dovahkiin. You have become strong. But I am Al-Du-In, Firstborn of Akatosh!" he cried. "I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you... _mortal_!

The grey giant spread his wings, and once again, the ground began to shake violently. He was fleeing, that bastard!

"Come back here!" Aurora cried. "_Oi, you_! Come back and fight me, you coward!"

To no avail. Alduin had escaped. There were no words that could describe how Aurora felt. She had gone all that way, mental and physical, travelled all across Skyrim's land and undergrounds. For weeks, she had prepared for the final battle; she had prepared herself mentally for Sovngarde.

Just when she thought it was over. Now it appeared as it would never be over. Her destiny was to hunt him down until the end of her days in the mortal world. It cost her so much, so very, very much. It was hard to get into the state of required emotional numbness for a human who knew that she would die, and now she would have to do that again and again... and again.


	15. The inner Beast

The old man sighed as he looked on her and looked genuinely sorry. He had aged a lot since the last time she had seen him, and that was probably due to the fact that it was more difficult to run a hold than he previously imagined. His hair was completely grey now, and the lines on his face had become even more apparent.

"I want to help you, Dragonborn. And I will. But I need your help first. What do you think the Imperials would be doing while this dragon is busy slaughtering my men? No. I can't risk weakening the city while we are under the threat of enemy attack."

The woman was frustrated. For months, she had done nothing but trying to prepare for a final fight with Alduin, and now she was forced to argue with the Jarl of Whiterun for being allowed to use his palace to capture Odahviing in order to finish what she started. It was a desperate feeling of helplessness and she felt as if the entire world worked against her.

"Vignar, I beg you," she said. "One Companion to another."

He crossed his arms and shook his head. For all Aurora cared, she could just have used the Elder Scroll and sent Aludin forwards in time, giving the problem to someone else. She did not, and for that, she thought people should be grateful. There she was, saving Skyrim and its people. At least the rest of them could be helpful.

"I'm sorry."

With that, he turned away. Aurora was used to that by now, that people she needed decided to do everything in their power to make it more difficult for her to fulfil her destiny, but it hurt her even more as she had counted on Vignar since they both were Companions and spent many evenings together in Jorrvaskr. He should have trusted her, no matter what. Ulfric did.

She sighed and turned her heel. Never had it been so difficult to descend the stairs in Dragonsreach. Well, perhaps the day of the battle for Whiterun was comparable when it came to having low spirits. The fact that it was Whiterun, the home of the Companions contributed to this feeling too. Aurora spent so much time telling herself that it was fine if she would die, that she did not have even a minute to process her personal loss.

When she walked through the door, her first instinct was to hide. She would avoid Jorrvaskr to all cost. Her first meeting with _him_ could not have ended worse. She was utterly humiliated and broken at the time, and the woman could not blame him for reacting the way he did. Who needed a wreck in the first place?

The Dragonborn rushed down the stairs to the Gildergreen and turned right, taking the alternative route out of the town. Some people called her name when she ran past, but Aurora did not stop. She did not even turn around to see who greeted her in fear of it being the wrong person.

The woman ran all the way to the stables, where she had left her horse. She still preferred to travel without one, but walking across all of Skyrim was not an option considering how many places she had to visit within a limited amount of time.

Vignar gave her no other option than to win the Civil War before she could finish her duties as Dragonborn. Ulfric would probably be very glad to see her again, she thought, since she could do nothing about the Vignar situation. It would not be her fault, and therefore she would not have dishonoured her responsibilities. The woman smiled a little when she thought of how it would be to explain her return to her Jarl.

The sun shone form the West when she left the town, heading towards Sky Haven Temple. Aurora found it appropriate to inform Delphine and Esbern in person about what had happened on the Throat of the World before disappearing for Gods know how long. The conflict could take months to resolve, and since Aurora had avoided major towns and settlements, she had no idea how far into the war Skyrim was. When she visited Markarth, it had been under Stormcloak command, but that was all she knew.

Aurora rode through the night, not bothering to rest for a minute. Living with the knowledge that she would probably die made it difficult to sleep. She did not go to bed until she was completely exhausted and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow nowadays. Since the horse did not complain and the landscape was somewhat flat, there was no reason to stay and make camp for the night. Rorikstead was a good place to spend the night at, and she would reach it the following evening if she kept up the pace.

* * *

Aurora left the horse at Old Hroldan inn since the last few miles to Sky Haven Temple were slippery and hilly. The last thing she needed was a horse with broken ankles. Especially since she intended to ride to Windhelm within hours after telling her fellow Blade members what had happened at the Throat of the World. Delphine would probably not be especially pleased with her choices. There was a tension between the older Imperial and Aurora due to her being a Stormcloak, and the Blades existing only to protect the Emperor. They had never spoken about it, but Aurora could see that Delphine did not particularly like it when she spoke of her Jarl. In order to keep it civilised, they had avoided the politics as a subject.

She missed him – her Jarl. He was the first man who trusted her abilities. Well, Brynjolf did that too, but they had never spoken of her duties as Dragonborn. Ulfric believed in her even though she was in a very weak state when they learned to know one another. He occasionally did things that she was not completely happy about, but at least he was honest about it. She could forgive him for that.

It had been four months since she felt the warmth of a man, and perhaps that was what she missed the most. Skyrim's cold climate made her longing even worse. No one wished to be alone at night, especially so far up North as this.

The woman was incredibly happy to leave Sky Heaven Temple too. Delphine and Esbern both drove her mad, even though she had barely ever spent two consecutive days there. The Grandmaster was a lot more fun to hang around with before they moved in together, and Esbern had been a finger in her eye since the first time she saw him back in Riften. For all she cared, he could have stayed there. All information she needed came from Paarthurnax anyways.

The spring was beautiful, though, and highly anticipated. The Reach was perhaps the most picturesque area of Skyrim, and she was happy to have travelled there. It was probably still winter in Windhelm, where she would be spending at the following weeks. It was strange how the climate differed. In Cyrodiil, she would be swimming in the lakes by now, and in Hammerfell, she would be wearing as little clothing as possible.

The walk to the Blades headquarter took her half a day, meaning that she could not stay a minute longer than necessary as she wished to reach the inn before nightfall. It did not bother her, but she assumed that Delphine would have a hundred things she wanted to be done in the Temple.

The woman hurried up the mountain. She was not a particularly good climber, but the way she used was not steep. The heavy armour was not really made for walking uphill, meaning Aurora would be tired when she reached the top.

The view from the terrace was astonishing, but the woman did not have time to stay and admire it. With determined steps, she headed for the stairs. She could never get her head around the fact that her fellow Blades spent most of their day inside when they had such a view outside. The inside of the Temple was dark. Perhaps that was the reason for Esbern, Aurora thought. Perhaps it reminded him of his wonderful years in the Ratway.

She did not bother sneaking up on the Guildmaster and her puppet this time. Instead, the Dragonborn walked down the stairs and immediately spotted the Grandmaster.

"Aurora! You have good news I take it," she exclaimed and put her hands on her waist, looking at Aurora with an anticipating gaze.

"Well, Alduin isn't dead," she began. "But I know what to do. Before I can do that, though, there's a war I have to take care of."

She was very straightforward as she did not wish to spend a minute more than necessary within those dark walls. Delphine seemed very suspicious, though, making Aurora slightly uncomfortable.

"There's one more thing I want you to do before you leave," she began.

Of course there was. If it was not to kill a dragon, there were always people she should find or things she could destroy. Aurora sighed and crossed her arms, waiting to hear what Delphine wanted to be done this time.

"We know about Paarthurnax," the woman said, raising an eyebrow as if she was upset.

"Yes, turns out he's a dragon. But he helped me."

Damn, Esbern really had his sources. This was a fact she wanted to keep secret since she knew about Delphine's paranoia, but somehow she must have found out, and now she was upset with Aurora for not telling her.

"That's fine. We needed his help," she said with a smug tone. "Now we don't, and it's long past time for him to pay for his crimes."

"Delphine, I think you misunderstood me..." Aurora began, but it was hopeless. When the Grandmaster wanted something, she listened to no one.

"And he's not just any dragon. He was the right hand of Alduin. He committed atrocities so infamous they are still remembered, thousands of years later."

How black and white her world must be, Aurora thought. She tried to calm herself down and prepare for a long and heated discussion with someone who saw people as genuinely good or entirely evil.

"But Delphine, is it better to be born good or to overcome your inner evil by massive effort? He has aided mortals for centuries."

"He needs to die. He deserves to die. And it falls to you to kill him," the Grandmaster told her with a very un-understanding tone. "Until he's dead... well, I'm sorry, but we would dishonour our oaths as Blades if we continue to help you."

She did not sound sorry at all. In fact, it came across as if she had given her an ultimatum. Aurora always knew that Delphine was difficult, but this was atrocious! Never had she heard anything as unfair as this. The dragon was the only reason to why Alduin was seriously injured and that she had survived. Without his help, she would not have returned from the Throat of the World. Aurora recognised herself within Paarthurnax. They had both acted in ways that were completely neutral for their kind. She had spent many months avoiding the event that could lead to her death, which in the eyes of an outsider appeared to be wrong. This was easier said than done, and the dragon had spent hundreds of years meditating, fighting against what was natural to him.

It required more strength and courage to fight Alduin than Delphine would ever know. She was not there, she did not carry the burden that Aurora or Paarthurnax did, and now she had the guts to label him a cold-bloodied beast.

"You speak so lowly of Paarthurnax, but I am no longer sure of who the brute really is," Aurora spitted.

The Grandmaster was visibly shocked. Never had she anticipated Aurora to cross her in such a way, rendering her unprepared to answer.

"Says the woman who turned against her own!" she exclaimed.

So now she was the monster for turning away from her fellow Imperials? Aurora's blood was boiling, and even though she knew it was pointless to argue with Delphine, she felt that she needed to empty her frustration out on the woman in front of her.

"Because my own were unable to stand up for themselves. I will not excuse myself for supporting a leader who wouldn't turn his back on his people. The Emperor you've sworn to protect has not even tried to make contact with you, regardless of your work in Cyrodiil!"

With that, she dropped her sword and turned around, never to set her foot in the Temple again.


	16. Warm Nights in Windhelm

He was sitting on his throne, with his head resting in the right hand and a straightened knee, making it look as if he was in fact lying down. It had been a very mundane day. No news from the frontline – only reports on Imperial troop movement and a minor rebellion in one of his villages. The past months had been very difficult for him in every possible interpretation of the word. The war was not progressing as quickly as he had hoped, and it was becoming rather expensive too. Many were also questioning his legitimacy, and taking care of those would not exactly impress a potential moot. In fact, the situation had grown increasingly bad. His evening was ruined by the news, or rather, lack of.

He had often thought of her. The last look, that bid farewell to him – he had played it over and over again in his mind, breaking through sore parts of his mind. She had so much potential. Such a shame that it was not being put to good use in the war. One day, it would bloom, he was sure of that. Talos must have sent her onto his path for a good reason.

The every day-life played out like a spectacle in front of him – distant. This was a particularly difficult day, for he could not concentrate on the present, for his mind was in the future. Skyrim's as well as his. His gaze was set to the door, yet he did not notice it, lost in his mind as he was.

The Jarl only looked up when his steward slightly pulled him in the arm of his jacket, pointing at the woman standing in the doorway. She was smiling, and the soft light of the hall shone like glimpse in her eyes, bringing an incredible sense of fulfilment to him. He slowly got up to his feet, not letting her go with his gaze in fear of her disappearing like a ghost if he dared to even blink for a second. The people in the hall continued in their ordinary manner, but little did they know of the emotional turmoil inside of him. There she stood, but he could not believe it. It was too good to be true.

Long, but slow steps took him to her across the hall. They felt like an eternity, but he could wait. The fulfilment of delayed pleasure tortured him in enjoyable ways, and he dared not move or think too fast in fear of breaking the spell. The fascination was so great.

She looked down on his feet and made a deep curtsey, standing on one knee on the floor in front of him. She was different. By the Nine, she had changed so much! Her hair was shorter, much shorter. The locks that once reached her belly button were now just barely touching her shoulders, her body was stronger than ever before, and she had a scar on her neck. An angry, red scar – a few inches long, caught his attention. What shocked him the most was something else, though. She was altered. The way the woman held her head up high, even when curtseying, was astonishing. It was as if nothing could touch her, as if she was immortal and invincible.

"The deed is done, my Jarl. I have returned to take my place behind you in battle for..."

"On your feet," he ordered with a silent tone, still not tearing his gaze away.

She did as she was told and slowly got up, but her focus was slightly behind. He could not breathe, waiting for her eyes to meet his. For some undefined reason, he could not function, he could not think or act. At last, their gazes met.

The Jarl's heart jumped. Her eyes still revealed secrets of her mind to him, he thought. Nothing had changed during the months they had been parted, the girl might have grown but she was still, if not dependent on, but at least connected to him. In a way, she was another person now – she was Dragonborn, and he looked forward to learning to know that person, yet her eyes told a different story too. She had missed him greatly, and it stung her to see him once again. It was unexplainable, but it hurt him too to see her. He felt like a hungry beggar finding mountains of food, being scared of throwing himself over her in joy of finally seeing her again.

"I am unable to find suiting words to describe my gratitude of having you back," he said with a low tone in order to preserve the atmosphere.

She looked at him patiently, her eyes kissing his face. He could not help but to smile when thinking of how the events that would take place the same night. There was someone he should thank before enjoy himself, though.

The man took a step closer to her and was no being able to feel her scent. He laughed slightly when noticing the smell of a long trip on her, but quickly let his smile die out.

"I adore you, soldier, I admire your strength, I worship your presence, and I thank Talos for bringing you onto my path," he said like out of a textbook before embracing the woman in front of him.

"My Jarl..." she whispered as she put her head on his shoulder.

The words were spoken with such tenderness that it made his heart break. He had jerked when she spoke, breaking their hug. Instead, he quickly grabbed her hands, bringing them to his chest. He was breathing heavily, as if he struggled with fighting off burning tears. The man's lips then desperately touched her hand, leaving her with a sensation that was difficult for her to describe; it was almost as if he praised the Gods for bringing her home safely. The atmosphere was like after surviving a life-threatening encounter with a dragon. The Jarl was obviously very touched, and it warmed her heart that someone cared for her health and wellbeing. She was not used to it.

* * *

He took a firm grip of her throat and pulled it to the right side, enabling him to kiss her neck. His left hand was then free to explore her breasts, teasing her by rubbing her nipple with his index finger. He did not know if the sensation was more intense for her or him, but the woman was groaning peacefully in his grip. He loved the taste of her, and he cursed himself for taking so long to figure it out.

The water had been cold for ages, but neither one of them wished to get up. He loved having her pressed against him, feeling her skin and being free to let his hands do whatever they wished. She was always such an obedient lover who knew her place, allowing him to pleasure himself. With her, he always felt like the dominant King he would be. In that aspect, she was the ideal woman to him.

The Jarl held his lips as close to her shoulder as they could possibly be without touching her, breathing on her cold skin. The woman's eyes were closed and her brows tilted forwards, wrinkling her forehead. He smiled smugly, admiring his accomplishment for a moment before hungrily kissing her neck again. He pinched her with his teeth, making her groan even deeper.

Suddenly, he felt her hands on his thighs. The woman had gripped him very swiftly, and he was not prepared for the wave of pleasure that was sent through his body. His heart was pumping heavily, and the man let out a groan, what triggered her to let her hands work they way to the inside of his thighs.

He wanted to reward the woman for her accomplishment, and what could possibly be better than soon-to-be-Royal attention, kisses and touches? Even if it was only for a night, it would be something she would never forget. Yes, the honour was hers, even if there was a certain prestige in being carnal with the Dragonborn.

The woman bent forward to change her position, but he did not let her. With a hard grip around her left wrist, he forced her hand out of the water and to his lips. His tongue played on her palm, and she could hear the sound of his heavy breath so clearly. Within moments, he did not wish to wait any longer. With a determined and fast move, they had changed positions, and he was pressing her against the back of the bathtub. He wanted her so badly.

With one hand, he balanced his weight against the side of the tub, and used the other to separate her legs. His erection was pounding, and the situation almost became unbearable when he saw how willingly she lay there, awaiting him.

He took a grip around his boiling manhood and moved towards her. She may have been wet, but the water made it more difficult to enter her and caused a sensation of penetrating a maiden for the first time. She was young enough to still be one, and her unspoiled face added to the feeling. An iceberg of pleasure built up inside of him, causing his blood to rush through his veins, touching every nerve on its way. He thrusted again, harder this time in order to penetrate her body's natural barrier, and succeeded. The woman tilted her head back over the tub and placed her hands on the sides of it, gripping the edges.

With another thrust, he was buried in her heat. The Jarl let himself come closer to the woman beneath him, placing his mouth next to her ear. He moaned as to ensure her that she was fulfilling her obligations towards him, and got a gasp as reply. He worked up a pace, and the wave of pleasure hit him with his every move. The man threw his head back, yelping from the bottom of his throat as his erection was rubbed against her inside.

Suddenly, he felt her thighs and legs stiffen, her breath stop and the muscles inside her contracting, but he was entirely unprepared for the effect it would have on him. He took a firm grip of her hips and took her harder. He was standing on the verge, and only needed a little to fall over, indulging in the pleasure the human body offered.

She was feverishly hot, and so was he. The woman felt that he would soon climax and arched her back. The Jarl looked at her breast and clasped it harshly. Every nerve in his body sang as he did so, and the rushing blood made his veins expand and thump. Even the veins in his temple were throbbing like an old Dwemer engine.

When he knew that he would not be able to withstand any longer, he pulled out and hurried up to his knees. He only needed to rub his manhood twice or thrice before an orgasm crested through him. His hips swung in rhythm with the ejaculation and he could neither think nor hide his reaction to it. It was not often he felt it this intensively – his entire world was rocking back and forth, spinning. The physical pleasure was astonishing.

The Jarl looked at Aurora. Her lips were parted as if she still moaned silently, and her eyes were half closed but focused on him. The man looked at her with a smile as he stepped out of the tub, giving her time to admire his muscular body.

He returned some moments later with a towel. The woman understood his intentions and stood up to let him place it over her shoulders. Their gazes met and did not let go of one another. The Jarl's look pierced Aurora's eyes, and he had never felt such a strong connection to a woman as he did right then. He took a firm grip of her waist and lifted her out of the tub, gingerly placing her on the floor.

The moment her feet touched the cold stones, she jerked and laughed slightly. The man smiled too, but placed a warning finger on her lips. Aurora stopped and once more focused entirely on the man in front of her. Again, he easily lifted the woman by gripping her thighs and back. The towel protected her decency, but the man remained naked as he carried her to the door.

"Let's not speak," he whispered. "I wish to merely revel in the moment."


	17. The Jarl's Woman

Aurora was utterly confused. The Jarl had left the bed long before the woman woke up as usual, and the side on which he had slept was cold. That contrasted quite a bit to his welcome the previous night, she thought as she looked around in the chamber.

A warm beam of sunlight shone into the room through the oblong windows, informing of the woman that it was rather nice outside for the season. She needed time to think and thought it would be a good idea to do so whilst training. Therefore, she needed to find her armour, which the Jarl probably left of the floor in the bathroom. Since her leather jacket and pants were rather odorous and needed a good wash before she could use them, the woman thought of the dress she had once brought to the palace. Finding it without asking a servant or the Jarl would be difficult, but as she was reluctant to bother the Jarl in his important work, and she could see no chamber maiden in the corridor when she opened the door, there was no other option but to look for it herself.

She went through some of the Jarl's wardrobes even though she did not expect to find anything there. The main thing was to find something to wear, and she would not care if it so was a potato sack. When she opened the third door, she noticed a beautiful dress hanging over the other clothes. The top was blue with many silvery Stormcloak symbols sawn into the corset and the bottom was brown like the cuirass of the rebellion armour. Aurora did not know what to do. She had expected to find an old tunic she could borrow, not a dress that hung as if it was expected to be found by her. The Jarl had never given her anything a lover would give to his mistress. She had received some equipment, but that was for her accomplishments within the rebellion – not in bed.

How strangely the Jarl acted. He had never been particularly public about their relationship. He would avoid physical contact with her in front of Galmar, even though the General must have been aware of the fact that the Jarl called her to his chamber on a regular basis. Yesterday, he had greeted her with an embrace, and more than that – he had kissed her hands, but not in the usual way a man pecked an honoured woman. The Jarl held her tightly, not like a mistress, but rather as his beloved.

A daunting thought guttered through her mind. Could it possibly mean that he was fond of her? She pushed away the thought. He was a Jarl, and more specifically – Ulfric Stormcloak. It seemed very out of character of him to fall for anyone less amazing than himself, and that would rule out all women in Tamriel. Aurora had never imagined her Jarl to be able to love a woman the way a man should.

On the other hand, she was quite amazing herself. The way she had handled that Aludin thing... The woman laughed wholeheartedly. She began to sound just like the Jarl, had she said it out loud that was. Perhaps there was some value to that point, though. The Jarl seemed to push her into fighting for her and Skyrim's cause. Did it mean that he liked and respected her abilities? And more importantly – her?

_Stop dreaming_, she told herself. There should not be a possibility of him loving her; he was the Jarl for Gods' sake. Some Kings and Jarls could love a peasant or a hunter, but her Jarl appeared to be too pragmatic. Besides, it was not as if her heart was hers to give away in the first place.

She tried her best not to think of Vilkas. It was not worth the pain it caused. She had once heard that Akatosh originally created people with four legs, four arms, two heads and two faces, but with a single mind. Fearing their power, he split the individual in two, forever condemning the parts to wander Tamriel in search for their other half.

Aurora always thought that if she would find him, that would be it. They would be together, living and thriving. They would hunt, travel and fight, and then perhaps build a house and raise a family. She did not know what to do when her left hand suddenly turned against her right. Such a situation was not supposed to ever occur.

It was almost laughable how naïve she had been when leaving Morrowind. The fact that it took her two years to get over Amhed was preposterous. She had liked him, but never had she experienced true love before Vilkas. When thinking of him, she had trouble breathing. Her heart could just as well have been torn out of her chest and thrown to the pigs.

Ulfric was a good man. He treated her well, and he was honest. He would have been a good husband, had he been available. To be honest, she wished to marry him. Not out of love, but for peace of mind. If she could not have Vilkas, she should at least be given a man who cared for her and she liked back. After all she had been through with Aludin and the events leading up to their battle, she deserved a good man and a comfortable life, she thought.

The fact that he would never ask her stung slightly. She was not a politician, but she knew enough of it to realise he needed a true lady of Skyrim. Who was she? An outsider, an Imperial. Dragonborn, yes, but the parts of Skyrim that supported the Empire would not allow her Jarl to overthrow Elisif. Even she could find supporters in the Nord community, and the Jarl would probably be forced to marry her in order to be crowned High King by the moot.

On the other hand, there was nothing that guaranteed a Stormcloak victory over the Imperial forces. If they lost, her Jarl would be executed for treason, but Aurora did not wish to follow the same fate. She had other obligations, and the Imperials would be forced spare her no matter what.

The dress and Aurora got along like a house on fire, except for the fact that it was slightly too tight for her to be able to move around comfortably. Aurora's shoulders were too wide, meaning that she could only raise her hands to shoulder-height, but it had to do. She was grateful for the Jarl's thoughtfulness. Hopefully, it was intended to be a gift for her. She did not even wish to imagine the awkwardness if that was not the case. On the other hand, the Jarl had some explaining to do as well.

She put on a pair of moccasins, took a deep breath and began to descend the first set of stairs. The corridor was empty and cold, and she could not even hear any voices coming from the strategy room. The Jarl probably had visitors in the hall, she thought and hurried down the second stairs.

"Aurora!" she heard him exclaiming just as she had jumped from the last step. "Come and see this!" the man ordered with a smile on his face.

The Jarl seemed rather pleased as he leaned over the table with his hair falling down in his face. He did not look at her, but instead focused his gaze on the map in front of him. The woman gingerly walked towards him and placed herself next to him but with some space in between. The man appeared not to have noticed her properly, for he immediately began to move small flags and pieces that were to represent armies.

"We took control of the Reach about three weeks after I sent you away. It was a very bloody battle for Fort Sungard. Galmar even got wounded buy an arrow in the shoulder, what delayed the next operation."

Galmar had been hurt in battle? She could barely believe it after fighting next to him in Whiterun. He could take on four or five Imperials on his own, easily. The tone in the Jarl's voice reassured her that there was no major health problem with the General, but the woman remained shocked by his words. Many must have died –the fallen coming from both sides, and Aurora was upset for not being able to participate in the battle.

"Fort Snowhawk in Hjaalmarch was easier as the entire building was deteriorating. We attacked through a hole in the wall and cleared the place within an hour or so," the Jarl continued, still without looking at her.

There was something unusual about his ways that day. The Jarl blatantly ignored her appearance and spoke to her like to a soldier rather than a woman he liked to bed. Aurora did not look at the map on the table – in stead she searched for the Jarl's gaze. The man, on the other hand, seemed to desperately avoid hers. It must have meant something special to him – the previous night. The woman found this rather amusing and covered her mouth to hide the smile that was breaking out on her lips.

"The next target will be the Pale. Galmar and I have been planning an attack on Fort Dunstad, which will take place within two fortnights. The plan is to..."

All of a sudden, he pierced his eyes to hers and raised an eyebrow. The woman could not hide the fact that she was greatly entertained by the man's actions. He looked at her and sighed loudly, but did not smile. The woman knew that she would be forced to give him something to start a conversation with, but did not know how to manipulate him into explaining what had happened between them.

"My Jarl," she said, trying to hide her giggles but in vain.

"Women!" he complained and threw his arms to the sides. "_Yes_, I ordered a dress for you, but that doesn't mean that I'll spoil you with more gifts," he said with a not too serious expression.

"Good, because..." she said and tried to lift her arms, showing him that the dress was too tight on her.

They both laughed slightly, and the Jarl scratched himself behind the ear. A few moments later, Aurora could clearly see how he was thinking of a way to parry her accusing look. He was unused to this; having to reveal his personal thoughts and (dare she think it?) emotions.

"Glad you like it, you're welcome," he said with a smug smile after a few seconds. "I prefer you without it, but I'm both generous and jealous," he continued and winked. "You should leave now, I'm having a meeting with an Officer."

He spoke the previous sentence jokingly, yet with a good pinch of sincerity. _By the Nine_, Aurora thought. He felt stiff around her, and there was only one reasonable explanation. She did not wish to think it in case she was erroneous, but all the evidence pointed to that direction. There must have been a reason to why he decided to please her in bed all of a sudden, and not merely using her body to satisfy his needs as he had preferred it before. He had told her the very first night that he wanted women who did not ask for anything, maidens mostly. It had to mean that he saw her as something more than just a mistress.

It all added up to it – the dress, the bath, the welcome. What else could it be? She forced her thoughts to slow down. It had happened before that she had let her emotions control her without listening to the logic. It had ruined relationships and given her more heartache than she could bear. The woman began to gather evidence against her thesis. He was the Jarl, rather egocentric and had slept with other women whilst she still was there, and his answer regarding the dress had been that she should not expect other gifts. She had a lot to think of, and he wished to be left alone. Therefore, she gave him a quick smile before turning towards the door.

"You are different," he said just as she reached for the door handle. "You've grown into that dress of yours."

She knew it very well. The last time she had been in at least nearly as muscular was when she lived with a tribe in Hammerfell where she fought and trained all day long for weeks at a time. Exploring tombs and fighting their inhabitants as well as Giants, dragons and necromancers forced her to become stronger. It was nothing she wished to discuss, though. Aurora did not brag, she felt no need for it.

"Perhaps the dress was sewn too tight," she answered to lighten the mood.

"No," he said and shook his head slowly. "The measures were taken from the blue dress you brought here with you."

"It took its effort," she said neutrally. "But it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't met you."

There was a silence – a good one, where they both let distant memories run through their heads. Silences with him were never awkward or strained, for what she was grateful. The Jarl leaned against the table, holding up a significant part of his weight with the right arm.

"Can't say that I haven't missed you," Aurora spoke, still standing by the door. "In fact, there hasn't been a day when I haven't thought of you. Well, almost at least."

The Jarl looked directly into her eyes with a very serious gaze. Suddenly, he let go of the table and slowly started to approach her.

"Can't say that I never needed you. Both when it comes to the war and..."

She needed no further evidence. With that sentence, words were deemed redundant. He cared for her. She did not know how much, but it did not matter to her. The main thing was that he felt enough for her to behave oddly and unconfident, forcing his attention to other things when she stood nearby. The woman looked him in the eyes with a soft smile as to tell that she knew. She took a step closer to him and began to tenderly stroke his hair with her right hand.

"Ulfric..." she whispered warmly whilst caressing his cheek.

"My Jarl," he corrected the woman before kissing her.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all the reviews, all of you! And a particular thank you to HereLies who has contributed immensely. It inspires me a lot and makes me happy :)**


	18. Generals, Officers and Leaders

She spent many cold nights in bed with him, enjoying his company and keeping the warmth. As time passed, the woman realised how important he was to her and how much she appreciated his input when it came to fighting techniques and strategy. Had it not been for that man and his ability to coerce her into making the right decision, Alduin would still have terrorised Skyrim and her people. He was always so calm – always aware of the dangers and how to take care of them, for what she admired him.

When the morning light struck the floor, she was left equally alone. As time passed, she was becoming more eager to go out and fight a real battle, hopefully returning victorious. Her armour stood on a mannequin and collected dust, something both Aurora and the Jarl intended to change.

His eyes glowed with determination, and the veins on his temples pulsated angrily. His skin tone was turning into the same red colour the Imperial army used on its armour, and he held his breath. Aurora's arm felt utterly tired; her muscles vibrated in frustration as sweat escaped her palms. Arm wrestling had never been her thing – she preferred to use her fists, but a real woman would never back out of a challenge. She would win with pride and lose with grace, something she lacked as her entire face was twisted in pain when the Jarl pressed on. A moment later, the back of her hand touched the table, and a smug Jarl breathed out loudly with his arms in the air.

"You can't seriously have thought that you'd win," he smiled towards her.

"A challenge is a challenge."

"But I am a man," he tested her.

"And a rather muscular one," she laughed as she admired his arms. "You know what, my Jarl? I don't mind losing against you. In arm wrestling that is."

"How come?" he asked and calmly looked at the woman in front of him as one of his braids hid a part of his temple.

"Because I'd have you thrown to the ground if it was a real fight with fists and kicks," she giggled.

"Unbearably arrogant, like in the old days, but with more substance behind the words. You are intolerable now," he said with the same smug expression he had moments earlier.

"My tutor is the reigning master, my Jarl."

Even though slightly offended, he smiled. He could not make his mind up her newfound confidence. It was undoubtedly helpful to her in battle, but she was becoming increasingly independent from him as time passed. A part of him was beginning to fear the day she would depart from him, a fact that was undeniable. As the woman grew cheekier and mentally stronger, an invisible force drifted them apart.

He shook his head at the thought. He would be King, and what else could a woman desire more? He would be King, so why should he crave her of all the womenfolk in his lands? None of them were worthy the admiration of a High King – not even Aurora. She remained but a child and was easily manipulated, just like the rest of the opposite sex, and could therefore never be his equal.

Yet there was this sense of care in his heart that worried him. He had known love before, many years ago in the distant Great War, and this was indisputably a similar sensation. When he looked at her, his face automatically lightened up in a genuine smile, something that could not have gone unnoticed by the woman. As she reacted in a similar manner, he could only conclude that the feeling was mutual. It must have been.

She was sent out of the room soon afterwards, and as she did not have anything particular to do, the woman decided to pay a visit to the barracks. Even though she had spent months within the ranks of the Stormcloaks, she still did not have anyone she would call a friend there. As she spent most of her time with the Jarl or Galmar, the woman was alienated from the rest of the group. There was always Ralof of course, but she did not wish to befriend him any further after their moment of indiscretion those months ago. The Jarl would probably be furious if he found out, and the woman's sense of self-regard would suffer too. It had been a huge mistake to bed Ralof and she wanted nothing to do with him as she felt that he had taken advantage of her vulnerable situation, inadvertedly, yet still.

Aurora had walked across the hall and towards the stairs of the northern side of the palace with her eyes locked to the ground in front of her, and deep inside her own mind. For the first time, she had seen the Jarl being unsure of what to do. With their first night together since her return in mind, Aurora knew it had to do with her. Normally, he would give her orders in all aspects: in the Strategy room, by the dinner table and in bed. He did that now too, but with such a tender voice that she could not possibly be offended. He had his peculiarities, but they were not difficult to live with.

She liked the man a lot, but she felt uncomfortable about the fact that he did not know what to do about their relationship. It was obvious that they were no longer merely lovers, but the Jarl had not taken further steps. He did not kiss her in public, except for the night she returned to Windhelm, and even though his way of bedding her (and the frequency of it) had changed slightly, it was not the same as with a partner. A picture quickly appeared in her head, but she pushed it away. Vilkas _did not_ want her. There would be none of it, she told herself.

It was sad that the Jarl had not made his mind up about what to do with her, for she would be very happy to stand by his side, to whisper sweet words in his ear and caress his skin like a woman should, and have the same in return. Aurora wanted a normal relationship, but she would not dare to ask for it. If the Jarl wanted it, he should claim it. After all, it would not make the situation better if she confessed this to him whilst he was unsure. There was a risk of history repeating itself, and she did not want to lose him as a friend and guide, so the woman decided that she would remain calm.

Just as she turned around the corner, still absorbed in her own thoughts, a tall figure appeared very suddenly. She stopped just in time to avoid being hit by the massive General.

"Galmar!" the woman exclaimed. "Watch where you're going!" she added with a cocky smile.

His face shone as he took her hand and shook it with slightly too much force. He did not seem all too surprised to meet her, meaning that the Jarl or someone probably had informed him about her return. Aurora had noticed that the General had been gone, probably on a mission or to inspect the troops, but she had not yet asked the Jarl about it. She looked up at Galmar, who appeared to have been in a hurry, for his breathing was strained and his face bore red nuances.

"It's good to have you back, Stormblade," he said with a grin.

_Stormblade_? It had to be a new nickname, she thought and rolled her eyes. The woman remembered her first one with detest – Unblooded. Well, _Stormblade_ was better, but it was still a ridiculous tradition to give silly sobriquets to the soldiers.

"Aye, it's good to be back, but who in Tamriel comes up with those nicknames?" Aurora laughed.

"Well, the Jarl has got to do something, doesn't he?" the General answered with a wink.

"It's the Jarl?"

That was a certainly a surprise. Aurora could never have imagined that _he_ was the one behind all the stupid names, but it make sense as she was the only one she knew of that had been given one. When she thought of it, the name was not that bad, but it seemed very... familiar.

"There is something else that comes with that name," Galmar continued. "You are an Officer now. You can collect your gear from Oengul War-Anvil, even though I assume you are quite content with that ebony cuirass of yours."

"_Officer_?" escaped her lips before she had time to think of it.

"Hurry up, girl!" Galmar said, unhappy about her tone and doubtfulness. "There are rumours that the Jarl postponed the attack just so that your armour would be completed."

"Is it true?" she asked, unable to hide her all but amused thoughts behind a neutral facial expression.

"Not really," he laughed. "I've been visiting the Stormcloak camps around Solitude to plan an attack. I returned with the purpose of taking you and the rest of the soldiers to Dunstad, which will be taken tonight."

"I shall not waste a minute. You go and I'll catch up with you by nightfall."

* * *

Her heart was droning as she run inside the hall with her heavy equipment in her hands. The woman dragged the stupid bear's head behind and carefully avoided the spikes on the boots. They appeared to be more lethal than an enemy's blade, heavy and useless in battle. The skirt had been made a lot shorter than the men's, only protecting the top of the thighs, and exposing a lot more for the opposite sex to admire than Aurora felt comfortable with. What a git he was, her Jarl. They had spent most of the morning together, but he had not dared to tell her in person. He had to send Galmar to inform her, that coward.

She stormed through the door to the strategy room, throwing it hard against the wall. The loud sound of wood cracking against stone probably shocked the Jarl and his subjects, but the woman could not care less.

"My Jarl. My Jarl!" she said with a loud tone and held up her new cuirass. "What is this? Are you insane?"

The Jarl calmly bowed his head and threw a gaze at the three stunned officers standing around the table with him. Aurora did not take too much notice of the men close to the Jarl, for in her anger, she could see only him. The man did not seem as surprised as she had expected him to be. Instead, he pierced his gaze to hers and squinted his eyes slightly before nodding quickly.

"Leave," the man commanded with a sharp tone.

The Officers looked at one another, questioning the woman's intentions and behaviour, but they obeyed their leader. Aurora took a step closer to the stairs to let the men out of the room, but did not draw her look from the Jarl. He turned around as the men walked through the door, one by one. He must have been very angry with her as she rudely interrupted an important meeting, but Aurora did not care. The Jarl was a wise man but at times, he overestimated his knowledge. He tried to prescribe her attributes that were not natural to her, and for that, she was furious with him.

When the last of the officers left the room, Aurora crossed her arms and wrinkled her forehead, awaiting an explanation from the Jarl. She had forgotten to notice the spikes on the gauntlets, but was very suddenly reminded by one of them as it stung into her skin, perforating it. The woman, however, did not move an inch or change her expression. The pain was nothing compared to what distress the Jarl had caused her. The man had turned around with his back against the woman as he was thinking of what to answer her.

"Most people would be very proud to be of that rank, and I will not tolerate this rudeness from your side in front of the rest of the officers! You make me look a fool!" he yelled at her whilst still standing with the back against her and his arms crossed.

The atmosphere between them had changed radically. Aurora knew that she had overreacted, but there was no escape from the fact that he was wrong about her. She did not feel guilty at all, and her anger was difficult to control, projecting itself in an outburst. It would be best for the both of them as well as the rebellion if he came to his senses and realised his mistake. Aurora did not want to apologise, for it would have undermined her entire argument, but at the same time, she wished to lessen his anger. Perhaps, in his foolishness, he had thought it was some kind of gift to her after all. It was never comfortable to be on the receiving side of his anger if it was not for a good reason.

"I am not a leader, my Jarl. I fight on my own," she said, still with her face shining red of anger, but trying to come across as more gathered than she was.

The Jarl turned around very suddenly and placed both hands on the table in front of him. The blond braids had come down and framed his face, which had a very determined and upset look upon it. His eyebrows were tilted towards the nose, creating deep wrinkles on his forehead. He remained silent for a while, probably to calm down, Aurora thought.

"You have other responsibilities now. You can't fight all the Imperials alone, you need an army, and the soldiers need your guidance," he said after a while whilst biting his teeth together.

How could he not see? He was a leader, a good one for the matter, but not everyone was meant to be one. Why in Tamriel did people insist upon appointing her as leader when it was obvious to everyone involved that she completely lacked the required skills? Kodlak made her Harbinger, but he had been completely wrong in doing so. She had proved to people time after time again that she was no one to be trusted with ordering people around. She did not want it, and it only forced her into making stupid mistakes. This was way out of her comfort zone.

"My Jarl. I _cannot_ lead people," she tried again. "No one listens to what I have to say anyway."

She thought of Aela, who very sarcastically once had asked if she had any guidance to offer her. It hurt her more than anyone could imagine that all the Companions opposed her ideas and treated her like an unworthy imposter that had stolen Aela's or Vilkas's position. It hurt because it was true. Both Kodlak and the Jarl saw what they wished to find in her and not the real Aurora. For that, the Companions were forced to pay by not having a proper leader, and Aurora did not wish the same fate upon the Stormcloaks.

"This time, they will," the Jarl concluded.

"They won't!"

"_Discipline_, Aurora. With confidence and discipline you gain authority," he tried to convince her.

This was useless. His ears had a subjective intake of information. Sometimes his stubbornness made her want to throw a heavy, blunt object in his face. A statue of Dibella would finally come to good use, had she had one. The Jarl dared to think that he knew her better than she knew herself, something that was completely unacceptable for a warrior of her kind. It was vital to know one's weaknesses, but the Jarl blatantly ignored hers. The woman clenched her fists in frustration and bit her teeth together.

"Why did you appoint me?" she asked, disappointed.

"Because you are Dragonborn. You are a brilliant warrior, and with a bit of experience, you'd make a decent strategist."

Dragonborn, yes, but a Dragonborn was born alone, fought alone and was probably destined to die alone. She was not particularly fond of larger groups generally, and leading them was completely out of the question.

"I don't want it. I'm not a natural leader and I'll never be one."

"It is not a question of whether you want it or not, this is what the Stormcloak rebellion needs! Now leave. Your presence is required at Fort Dunstad, _Officer_."

This time, he had pushed her too far. There were some things not even a wizard could pull out of a person, no matter how skilled in psychology or magic they were. A mudcrab would be easier to find inside of her than a leader and the Jarl thought too much of himself and his ability to put the right people on the right job. Aurora had been Dragonborn before meeting him, he had just pushed her into the right direction, but when it came to her status as Officer, the road would only lead to a cliff. In anger and frustration, she threw the armour to the floor, watched it spread across the floor and then turned around and walked out through the door. The woman felt as if she could kill an entire army with her bare hands. The adrenaline rush meant that she could slay all dragons in Tamriel on her own when provoked like that. She would show him, that egocentric know-it-all, that even he was wrong at times.

* * *

**I am happy to receive such amazing reviews, and especially from HereLies, who is so damn good at picking up clues and leads! Thank you for sharing your thoughts :)**


	19. The Bear and the Dragon

**The following two chapters were originally intended to be one, but as they got insanely long (due to a lot of Bethesda dialogue), I divided them. That's why they are released at the same time :)**

* * *

The woman lay on her side and watched the shadows of the soldiers and horses that passed between the campfire and her tent. After the battle for the damned fort, she had avoided her soldiers. The victory meant that she had reasons to celebrate, but she would have preferred to fall through a hole in the ground. Becoming Officer had completely alienated her from the rest of the Stormcloaks. They would not relax in front of her as they feared she might berate them for being careless with the equipment or lacking discipline. An officer had more power, and that privilege divided them from the companionship of the commoners.

What kind of an officer was she? She still could not forgive the Jarl for forcing her out on to her completely unnatural territory. That speech she gave was painfully bad. Even Galmar grimaced when she stood in front of the crowd outside of Fort Hraggstad with her right hand awkwardly raised and yelling with a tone that sounded as if it belonged to a teenage boy whose voice was breaking.

_"Alright, soldiers. Em... today we are gathered here to fight for the Jarl, and ehm... the rest of the Stormcloaks. I want victory, but assume that I'm not the only one, so... Um... Let's just fight! Follow me!"_

Oh Gods, how embarrassing it had been. It could definitely gone worse, but that was of no consolation to her. She promised herself never to hold a speech in front of a crowd of soldiers again. Not only did it do nothing to boost their morale, but also made her obsess over being an useless leader, making her focus on other things than the battle itself. As the Jarl would not listen, she had spoken to and convinced Galmar to postpone her first battle as a leader. For the past month, she had carefully listened to his speeches for the first time in her life. She still found them to be stupid and completely unnecessary, but that was only for her – the rest of the soldiers cheered happily as Galmar spoke of killing the enemy.

Suddenly, she felt the cold wind against her skin. Aurora got up on one arm and turned her head. The Jarl crouched by her feet as he did his best to close the gap in the tent opening. His blond braids flung behind him as the man moved his head, and Aurora could not help but to give him a little smile. He had arrived by horse from Windhelm about an hour before she went into hiding in the tent, but had been busy speaking to Galmar and eating with the rest of his soldiers.

After not seeing him for two fortnights, the woman was pleased to have him back with her, even if she still had issues with some of his decisions. Apparently, he wished to discuss one of them with her as soon as possible.

"Tomorrow we fight for Solitude," he smiled as he made himself comfortable in the sack next to hers.

That was the strangest welcome she had ever experienced, but she put it down to nerves. He lay down on his back with one arm beneath his head and the other on his chest. His face did not show any signs of worry, even though Aurora suspected that he was going through a difficult phase of self-doubt and agony. After all, if something went wrong tomorrow, he would lose his head. The Empire would never forgive treason of that kind, and all the Imperial soldiers and Solitude guards would do their best to kill him before the rest of the Stormcloaks to demoralise the attackers. Solitude was a challenging town to fight in – there were buildings hosting perfect outposts for snipers that were hard to detect.

"The men are tired after a months of continuous fighting. You should give them a few days of rest before..." she began.

"It will be too late. That might give the Empire time to send reinforcements," he interrupted her.

"They are at least four or five days from here, if there are any at all."

"Damn it, woman!" he exclaimed and sat up. "I didn't come here to discuss military matters with you.

"Why did you come then?" Aurora asked with a tone that was all too angry to genuinely reflect how she felt

"I haven't seen you for a month, and this is how you greet me? With suspicion and an distrust?"

To be honest, she did not know if he had forgiven her for her outburst in the Strategy room. As he did not come to her directly after reaching the camp and neither kissed nor embraced once he decided to visit her, Aurora did not know where they stood. She still carried anger for his careless designation, and there was a risk of him doing the same.

She looked him directly in the eyes and smiled slightly, slowly shaking her head. The sight of the Jarl's familiar face warmed her heart. Her eyes fell on the predominant nose, the intelligent eyes. He was a handsome man, her Jarl, and she had a weak spot for beautiful males. The woman placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled him towards her as she lay down, placing herself beneath him. Once their lips met, it sent a strong sensation of lust through her body and she shivered.

* * *

It was a cold, windy day in late spring. It had rained the night before, and the smell of raindrops still hung heavy in the morning mist. Aurora was shivering of cold, and she could not feel the tip of her fingers. Her right hand held her sword as if it belonged to a Draugr who would not let go of her blade, not even in death. The short skirt of her Officer armour did not do much to warm her legs, and she was still very much unused to the spikes on her boots. The Jarl had not forced her to wear it, but the woman felt that it was the right thing to do in the battle that would decide the fate of her Jarl, his army and the beautiful Skyrim. She wanted to show him support, that she was one of his Stormcloaks.

As the last of the soldiers arrived, the Jarl took a few steps further up the hill to be more visible to the rear rows of soldiers. He was wearing his usual apparel, meaning that he fought without a helmet, something Aurora admired him for. He was a brave man.

"This is it men," he said with a loud, determined tone. "It's time to make this city ours!"

As the crowd cheered, Aurora took a few steps closer, pushing other soldiers to the side as she walked up to him. His voice intrigued her, and she felt a strange connection to it, it was as if it pulled her to him. For once, she looked forward to hear what the leader of the army had to say.

"We come to this moment carried by the sacrifices and courage of our fellows. Those who have fallen. And those still bearing the shields to our right," he yelled.

His eyes glowed of willpower and strength. The man oozed of raw and pure masculinity, making him the centre of attention. A real Nord, a real man, Aurora thought and smiled slightly. Even though she knew that she should be professional and supportive leader after the Jarl and Galmar, she could not help being a woman. The man in front of her made her feel like a hormonal teenager who giggled and awkwardly did her best to catch his attention. There was something incredibly attractive with a man who knew how to handle a crowd, how to make it cheer after every sentence.

"On this day, our enemy will know the fullness of our determination, the true depth of our anger, and the exalted righteousness of our cause. The gods are watching. The spirits of our ancestors are stirring. And men under suns yet to dawn will be transformed by what we do here today."

Aurora looked at the Stormcloaks surrounding her. They eyes were pierced to their leader, the broad-shouldered man with the fur vest and massive gauntlets. In a way, it scared Aurora slightly. She admired him for being a man – the soldiers around her looked at him like on a God. It was interesting what a persona he had built up around himself, and it was intriguing to see how devoted the men and women were, almost obsessive in their looks. They would be so easy to manipulate into anything, even giving their own lives to protect the Jarl, Aurora thought. The woman who worked at the blacksmith's in Windhelm was just like those Stormcloaks around her.

"Fear neither pain, nor darkness. For Sovngarde awaits those who die with weapons in their hands, and courage in their hearts!" the Jarl continued. "We now fight our way to Castle Dour to cut the head off the legion itself! And in that moment, the gods will look down and see Skyrim as she was meant to be. Full of Nords who are mighty, powerful, and free!"

The soldiers cheered joyfully. They clapped their hands and roared at the top of their lungs. Aurora too raised an arm in support.

"Ready now! Everyone, with me! For the sons and daughters of Skyrim!" he thundered as he raised his axe.

He began to climb the last part of the hill on which Solitude was situated, and Aurora ran next to him. There was a risk of guards standing on the wall with their bows and arrows ready to kill the Jarl, and the woman would defend him with her shield if it would be deemed necessary.

"That's how a speech should sound," he said smugly as they ran for the entrance.

"Don't remind me!" she groaned.

They stormed inside and were immediately attacked by a dozen Imperial soldiers. Aurora stood next to the Jarl in the front line, and as the Stormcloaks pressed in from behind, she was suddenly overwhelmed by a sensation of being stuck. The crowd pressed her forwards as the enemy received orders of not retreating a yard and stay put until the last one of them was down. The uneasy feeling almost made her panic, but the Jarl's presence calmed her slightly.

For the first time, she saw him in battle. In that very moment, she forgave him for all the arrogance, the ego-centrism and bully tactics. He was not just good at fighting; he was one of the best she had ever seen. The sheer momentum he created was enough to break through the barrier of shields, and the man showed no sign of fear whatsoever. The Jarl was not as neat as Aurora was, but he made up for it with his size and power.

The Imperial soldiers were little boys compared to the determined bear who fought them. Aurora could not spend too many looks on him, for she was fighting three enemy soldiers singlehandedly whilst her owns were pushing on from behind. With a well-placed kick, she sent one of the Imperials backwards whilst raising her blade above her head, and pushing it down upon another man.

She span it around her head and swung at a new soldier whilst blocking a hit from the left with the Spellbreaker. Her hit did not kill the Imperial, but the Jarl finished him up for her moments later.

"Practise makes perfect," he smiled as they were given a few moments of rest as another group of Imperials approached them.

The Dragonborn was focused on the men and women who were running towards them from behind and did not throw a second gaze at the Jarl as he gripped her arm and pulled her to the side in order to let the rest of the Stormcloaks in. They were both breathing heavily as a result of carrying the heavy uniform and taking the main hit of the defenders on themselves.

Aurora was beginning to calm down. She had often experienced battle, but never had it been so crowded as inside of the Solitude walls. The street was not exactly narrow, but for an army, it was nowhere near comfortably wide. In dungeons and tombs, she had always been alone, without distressed soldiers pushing her from behind and leading her to mistakes. On the other hand, neither had she ever explored them with her Jarl. The Stormcloaks all agreed on that the Jarl was a brilliant warrior, but it was something rather different about seeing him in battle with blood on his axe and drops of sweat on his forehead. She stood next to him with their arms barely inches from one another, awaiting the onslaught. She had her gaze set on the red ones, but could hear the man's heavy breathing. She enjoyed the sound he made very much – it was the same noise he made in bed with her, and in a way, the two situations were of a similar nature. In bed, the Jarl became a bear; the same creature that took its shape out of the man that housed it and now stood so close to her.

"Besides," he said whilst the enemy approached them quickly, and by the time was merely a few yards away from them. "Galmar has praised your ability to give orders in battle."

He screamed as he raised his axe and leapt forwards, thrashing against the assaulting legionnaires. There were five or six of them, and Aurora felt the ground shake as her fellow Stormcloaks ran to help their leader. For a second, she stayed put as time slowed down. The woman could not believe his words. Galmar had praised her in something she felt she was useless at. She was not a strategist; she merely saw opportunity and used it to her advantage. It was something every warrior did in one way or another, but it did not mean that they were capable leaders who could bear responsibility for others. She did not want to send people off to take care of attacks from the side in case they were not skilful enough to kill them. Aurora was afraid of sending young men and women to their deaths due to her overestimating them. In cases such as those, she preferred to be the one taking on the attacks. Too many times had she seen Galmar sending too few Stormcloaks to handle some attackers, resulting in blood and death. It was a thin case – knowing how many to send. Four against three should result in victory, but that was not always the reality, and sending five could mean that he created a too wide whole in the main frontlines.

She shook her head and forced herself to live in the moment. Thinking too much on a battlefield could never bring anything good. One second too long, and she could be pierced by an arrow she had not noticed was flying towards her or being thrashed with a shield from behind.

She leapt towards the Jarl and finished off the last legionnaire in eyesight. The man was smiling and looked very calm. He placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered to her in a rather smug tone.

"You'll have to work on your charisma, which is beyond bad, but you are a good tactician."

He took a few steps away from her and yelled "The five of you, over there!" to a group of Stormcloaks who immediately ran up a bridge towards the blacksmith's. The Imperial headquarter was situated just behind, but apparently, the vault was blocked, meaning that they soon returned.

"I'm still worthless at leading the troops. I think you should acknowledge that you've made a mistake..." Aurora began.

"I haven't," he interrupted her.

His tone was not entirely free of doubt, but it sounded determined enough. Aurora laughed slightly at his stubbornness as they ran forwards, deeper inside the town. The Jarl led the way as they searched for an alternative route inside the headquarters.

"My Jarl. I am not you – I do not stand in front of crowds and give great speeches," she said whilst looking at the side of his face. "When I go into battle, I see only the enemy and what I have to do, not what happens around me."

"You are young and with good potential. You could turn into a great military leader one day."

There was something dreamy about his tone that Aurora could not ignore. Looking in his eyes did not bring her any new information, for they were cold and determined, just as expected of a man in battle. She could turn into a military leader? Aurora swallowed hard. He could only be implying one thing as the war for Skyrim would be over within an hour or so.

"You need experience for what is about to come," he said whilst throwing a gaze at her.

"The Aldmeri Dominion..." she formed with her lips so silently that it could not be heard by anyone.

There was no doubt about it. The man was planning to start the Second Great War. Aurora had expected it from the beginning, knowing that the Jarl was not a stupid man and that he felt that the Thalmor would not forgive being thrown out of Skyrim, yet it came on to her as a shock. It was actually going to happen. She would be there to not only witness, but to take part in the century's bloodiest war.

"Galmar and I are going inside Castle Dour as soon as possible, we should be able to fight off the guards there by ourselves as there can't be too many of them there," the Jarl told her as they approached the rear part of the headquarters. "You will coordinate the battle outside."

The General and his Jarl prepared to rush into the courtyard, leaving Aurora in charge of the entire army. She was still rather stirred about his words and unable to focus on the task that lay ahead. She would not be fighting just for the Jarl or Skyrim anymore. She would be fighting for the human races against the oppression of elves.

_Is that what you've done to me? Trained me for a new Great War? _Aurora thought. It sounded horrible, that the Jarl saw her as the future Officer in an army of not just dozens or hundreds like now, but of thousands. Tens of thousands. A mistake now would mean death of a few people, but if she messed up in the Great War... hundreds of families would not unite. They would lose the breadwinner, the children would be left without parents...

Suddenly, she felt a knock on her shoulder. A female soldier pointed at the Jarl who laughed as he avoided an attack from an Imperial tribune, and asked Aurora what her plans were.

"Follow me!" she ordered the crowd and ran past the Jarl and Galmar who were now both fighting a few auxiliaries. She killed a few Imperial soldiers and found herself in the middle of the courtyard, feeling very unsafe. The high walls were perfect hiding places for archers. She looked up and did indeed notice some. The woman ordered a handful of swordsmen to follow her up the stairs whilst the rest helped the Jarl and the General down on the courtyard.

The Spellbreaker offered good protection even against arrows, so the woman cleared most of the upper balconies almost by herself. When she felt that the battle was under control and that the Stormcloaks were close to securing victory, she turned to the direction where Galmar and the Jarl had gone.


	20. The Bear and the Dragon II

**I've used quite a bit of the game's real dialogue since this is one of my favourite parts and it goes well along with the story, see for yourself ;)**

* * *

Aurora ran downstairs and saw a door with quite a few dead bodies in front of it. They were all imperial for what she could see, so she hurried inside.

With a very serious tone, the Jarl ordered Galmar to secure the door just as Aurora walked through. There was a woman standing by a table in what looked to be a strategy room. Nearby, an older man had frozen to the ground after seeing the trio enter.

The Jarl calmly walked through the vault and placed himself about four yards away from the woman. _How strange_, Aurora thought. After all, the man behind her was a General based on his outfit. It did not make sense that the leader of one side approached someone beneath his rank in his or her final moment.

"Ulfric. Stop," the woman said.

Judging by her voice, she was in her late forties or early fifties. That was not the interesting part of it, though. _Ulfric_? Since when was that Imperial bitch allowed to call him by his name, but not she – his loyal warrior and lover?

Aurora searched for clues in the Jarl's eyes and did indeed find some. His face was not as hard and cold as it had been outside, when he fought against other legionnaires. In fact, it had a dreaming expression to it, as if he nostalgically remembered her from a distant time.

"Stop what? Taking Skyrim back from those who'd leave her to rot?" he asked with an all but angry tone.

"You're wrong. Ulfric. We need the Empire. Without it Skyrim will assuredly fall to the Dominion," the legate answered.

The Jarl and Aurora both crossed their arms, but for different reasons. The woman was becoming increasingly angry with the legate and the Jarl, but she stayed put even though her breathing became heavier and her arm was stretching for the sword.

"You were there with us. You saw it. The day the Empire signed that damn treaty was the day the Empire died," Galmar said.

So it was true then, that the Jarl remembered the legate from a distant time. They had probably been legionnaires together in the Great War, before Aurora had even been born. She was not jealous for seeing one of his old flames, but rather the fact that he did not complain when the legate called him by his name instead of by his epithet. It was unfair. She had done everything for him, she had even accepted the title of an officer, but she was still unworthy to call him Ulfric in his eyes. What had the legate done to deserve that? She was not a hero from the war, for Aurora had never heard of her before coming to Skyrim. The woman's blood boiled.

"The Empire is weak, obsolete. Look at how far we've come and with so little. When we're done rooting out Imperial influence here at home, then we will take our war to the Aldmeri Dominion."

Oh, there he made it official too. Great, so now she would be fighting in yet another war, going through all the mental and emotional difficulties it brought with it. That was fine if he would respect and cherish her enough to acknowledge her as his equal. She was Dragonborn for Gargoyle's sake!

"You're a damn fool," the legate complained.

That was the final drip for Aurora, who threw an angry look to Galmar's direction, and even though he usually was rather thick-headed, he got her wink.

"Stand aside woman. We've come for the General," he said.

"He has given up. But I have not," the legate proudly proclaimed.

"Rikke. Go. You're free to leave," the Jarl said with a worried tone.

Aurora got an intensive urge to throw up as she heard the Jarl's words and his intonation. She had not expected to see him that weak. After all, _she_ had killed more than one of her kin, her fellow Imperials. Had it been necessary, she would have ended the lives of her own children, her siblings or even her parents, had they turned against her cause. What could an old flame possibly mean to the Jarl?

"I'm also free to stay and fight for what I believe in," she said.

"You're also free to die for it," the Jarl answered.

"This is what you wanted? Shield brothers and sisters killing each other? Families torn apart? This is the Skyrim you want?!"

"Damnit woman, stand aside," Galmar said as he too lost his patience.

"That's not the Skyrim I want to live in," Rikke said as she ignored Galmar, only looking at the man in front of her.

She attacked him, swinging her weapon against the Jarl, who held his axe horizontally in front of him, but he did not appear to be fighting her. He merely defended himself, backing off when she swung and taking a few steps closer as she reloaded.

"Rikke. You don't have to do this."

He not only urged her to out her weapon down, he basically begged her, something that made Aurora's blood boil even more. The legate was a soldier, and the only right thing to do was to fight to the last drop of blood, until the last breath. Until every last entity of life left her body. The Jarl spoke to her like to a civilian.

"You've left me no choice... Talos preserve us!" she yelled.

As he did not care to kill Rikke, Aurora would put him out of his misery. She threw the Spellbreaker on the table and raised her sword. The Dragonborn calmly walked around the table, reaching the legate from behind. With a single, downward-facing thrust, the sword divided the legate's head in two. When the deed was done, Aurora coldly looked upon the Jarl, piercing his eyes with an annoyed gaze.

The Jarl did not wish to meet her gaze and decided to focus on the General who was standing with his back against the wall. Even though the legate's death must have weight down on him, he did not show it. Instead, he walked up to Tullius with his axe high above his right shoulder.

"Enough... Enough..." Tullius begged.

"This is it for you. Any last words before I send you to Oblivion?" the Jarl gritted through his teeth.

"You realise this is exactly what they wanted," the General exclaimed.

"What who wanted?" asked Galmar, thick as always.

"The Thalmor. They stirred up trouble here. Forced us to divert needed resources and throw away good soldiers quelling this rebellion."

"It's a little more than a rebellion, don't you think?" the Jarl rhetorically asked with a smug smile.

"We aren't the bad guys, you know."

"Maybe not, but you certainly aren't the good guys."

"Perhaps you're right. But what does that make you?"

_High King_, Aurora thought with an annoyed tone in her own mind.

"You just said it yourself."

"It makes us right," Galmar said.

"And if I surrender?"

"The Empire I remember never surrendered," the Jarl hinted.

_Come on_, Aurora thought. The Jarl was right. A soldier with honour never surrendered, especially someone with a General's rank. He should die to keep his reputation intact. This was exactly the kind of behaviour that had gotten them into the stupid agreement in the first place.

"The Empire is dead. And so are you," Galmar said.

"So be it," the General sighed.

The Jarl threw a gaze at Aurora and held it there. He had noticed her annoyance and irritation. He wrinkled his forehead as their eyes met and jerked slightly. He must have understood that she had noticed his strange behaviour, for he quickly looked down to the ground like a shameful teenager.

"Just kill him and let's be done with it already," Galmar urged.

"Come, Galmar. Where's your sense of the dramatic moment?" the Jarl laughed.

Aurora did not pay attention to their conversation, but focused her attention to her kinsman who was standing just in front of the Jarl. How much killing there had been during her time with the Stormcloaks. Almost a year with weekly blood spill, killing people that she probably walked past on the streets in the Imperial City as a child. The Jarl probably did not understand her, for it was not mainly Nords they were killing. The majority were Imperial legionnaires, even though they had attacked guardsmen too. When the woman finally looked up and listened to the two men's conversation, she heard Galmar suggesting that Aurora would be the one kill Tullius.

"I've had my fair share of killing today," Aurora calmly answered. She could not force herself to be the one to end a General's life. In fact, she had grown tired of the war itself. She would not be able to lift her sword on another Imperial.

"As you wish. This moment, we three, will be immortalised in song," the Jarl proclaimed and lifted his axe whilst the General got down on his knees.

* * *

"Well, I suppose some kind of speech is in order," the Jarl said and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll go gather the men in the courtyard," Galmar answered and took two leaps forwards.

"And Elisif?" the Jarl asked.

"Don't worry about her," the General answered as he turned his head. "I've sent my best men to round her up."

Aurora saw the big, old man walk through the door. It had hit her forcefully – the realisation of how tired she was. She had lost count of how many she had killed, and it worried her that she had taken the lives of others so easily. They were her enemy, but still. They were also her kin. The southern blood ran through their veins.

The Jarl stopped before her and reached her his sword. A Daedric one. Aurora bowed her head as she accepted it, and did not wish to look him into the eyes. The woman did not feel as if she was present in the moment, for she could not forget what had happened just moments earlier.

"Now then. The men will expect a speech. Will you stand by my side? I wish to honour you, Dragonborn and the truest of Stormcloaks," he asked her, trying to catch her gaze.

"I will stand by your side," she silently answered.

She would stand by his side, if he wished for that. She had always been and would remain loyal to him. If he wished to have her with her as he held the victory speech, there was no reason to say no. The woman knew it herself how difficult it could be to stand in front of a crowd.

As they walked towards the door, the Jarl placed an arm over her shoulders and smiled. The woman answered with a short, insincere one, which he failed to notice. Even though she now respected him more than ever as a warrior, she was equally annoyed with the man he was.

As they walked outside, the Stormcloaks were standing in a half-circle on the courtyard. Galmar presented the Jarl, who now walked a few steps ahead of Aurora.

"I am indeed Ulfric Stormcloak, and at my side the woman we know as Stormblade, and the world knows as the Dragonborn. And indeed, there are many that call us heroes," he spoke with his chest pushed forwards and arms open.

Aurora felt as if she wanted to kick him to the ground. He tricked her. That bastard had tricked her! He knew that she wished no glory or praise from the Stormcloak side. She had told him that repeatedly. _Don't you dare to use my name for your glory_, she thought. He only wished to include her as a Dragonborn in order to boost his own popularity. The entire Skyrim knew of the Dragonborn, and once knowing that she supported the Jarl, they would acknowledge him as their leader, at least that was what the Jarl hoped.

"But it is all of you who are the true heroes! It was you who fought a dying Empire who sunk its claws into our land, trying to drag us down with it. It was you who fought the Thalmor and their puppets who would have us deny our gods and our heritage. It was you who fought your kin who didn't understand our cause, who weren't willing to pay the price of our freedom. But more than that, it was you who fought for Skyrim, for our right to fight our own battles... To return to our glory and traditions, to determine our own future!"

The soldiers cheered, but Aurora cursed the Jarl instead. His arrogance would cost the man dearly and bring the end of him one day. She crossed her arms. In a way, she was intrigued. He was a great warrior and leader, but he possessed personal qualities that made it very difficult to be around him.

"And it is for these reasons that I cannot accept the mantle of _High King_. Not until the Moot declares that title should adorn my shoulders will I accept it."

"And what about Jarl Elisif?" someone suddenly asked.

A mumble went through the crowd as they all turned their attention to the woman. The Jarl seemed a bit confused at first, but quickly decided her fate.

"Yes, what about the Lady Elisif? Will she put aside her personal hatred for me, and her misplaced love for the Emperor and his coin, so that the suffering of our people will end? Will she acknowledge that it is we Nord's who will determine Skyrim's future? Will she swear fealty to me, so all may know that we are at peace, and a new day has dawned?"

As the woman answered _"I do!" _Aurora once again wished to stick two fingers down her throat. A wimp, a milkdrinker, yet the Jarl of Solitude and de facto Queen of Skyrim. The Jarl was right in provoking her; Aurora had done the same herself. Elisif deserved nothing, even if it would be improper to have her imprisoned.

"Then it is settled. The Jarl will continue to rule Solitude, I will garrison armies here to ward off Imperial attempts to reclaim the city. And in due time, the Moot will meet, and settle the claim to High King once and for all. There is much to do, and I need every able-bodied man and woman committed to rebuilding Skyrim. A great darkness is growing, and soon we will be called to fight it, on these shores or abroad. The Aldmeri Dominion may have defeated the Empire, but it has not defeated Skyrim!"

Once again, the crowd applauded and cheered. The Jarl turned to Galmar with a smile.

"How'd I do?"

"Eh, not so bad," the General answered and shrugged his shoulders. "Nice touch about the High King."

Aurora thought that the Jarl would turn to her shortly, so she stayed close to the two men, but did not bother listening to their dialogue. It was over, the war. It was finally over, but it had left an empty space within her. She had nothing to fight for anymore, she had no reason to get up in the morning, and it frightened her. She had left Jorrvaskr in order to get some distance form Vilkas and to begin a new chapter of her life, but now it was coming to the end. What was she supposed to do now? Aurora only knew of one thing – fighting, but that was out of the question.

It would take a lot of time before she would be forced to that, though. The elves would probably not attack before gathering an army to match the one they built two decades ago. On the other hand, she was immensely tired of war.

"And of course, we couldn't have done it without you," the Jarl spoke to her as he walked up to the woman. "May the gods preserve you," he said as he happily put his arm around her waist.

"What do you think?" he asked her as he kissed her forehead.

Aurora smiled smugly and wrinkled her forehead as she pushed the man away from her.

"If only your manhood was as big as your ego, I would be a very happy woman."

Galmar desperately tried to hide a laughter as the Jarl gave the woman a clap on her shoulder and shook his head, cursing her.


	21. Love is Politics

Being an Officer had other negative aspects. The endless meetings were utterly boring and often resulted in nothing at all. After spending three hours debating over how to rebuild the badly damaged town, Aurora's head felt as if it was about to explode. The weather was unseasonably warm for the early summer, and most officers in the room were sweating, creating a rather unpleasant mix of odours.

What the men in the room wanted to hear was what would become of the Jarl, but instead, they spoke of meaningless matters. Even the Jarl seemed bored – deciding what buildings would be repaired first and how was nothing that interested him very much. The steward, on the other hand, seemed to have the time of his life.

Aurora sighed and looked out through the window. How had it come to this? She should be outside in the sunshine, wearing only her tunic and leather trousers, looking for a place to swim or relaxing in the shadow of a tree. Instead, she was surrounded with bureaucrats that brought nothing to the table, wearing the warm Stormcloak uniform.

The Jarl looked as if he was about to fall asleep. At times, Galmar pushed him on the shoulder as he had to put his signature on documents. What they were really waiting for was a man or woman who had been sent to eavesdrop on representatives of the Moot. Each hold in Skyrim sent their delegate to Solitude to officially discuss the subject, but the member's position on the case could of course be extracted beforehand.

A few days before the Moot would gather, all but two members' intentions had been mapped. With some persuasion and threats, most of them had been influenced to vote for the Jarl, all but one. The Reach was still under Thalmor authority to some extent, and their Moot delegate had publically condemned the Jarl's intentions. The other one was from Eastmarch, making them all confident of his support.

Once they all arrived in Solitude, they had locked themselves in on a floor in Castle Dour, letting no one in or out. The discussions were to take place with only the members, and outsiders were not allowed until they reached an agreement, something that could take days. An unusually good climber had been sent to eavesdrop on them from a window so that the Jarl could make last minute changes to his statement, which he would present to the Moot as the final candidates were to be interviewed.

This meant that what they all waited for was for the spy to arrive. If he brought bad news with him, it could undermine the entire war. The Reach delegate could show Elisif support, thus giving the rest of the Moot enough courage to vote for her. It would reduce the Jarl to a mere advisor, something he had no intentions to allow to happen. No one wished for the Moot to be divided as that would just cause legitimacy issues and perhaps even cast new turmoil over Skyrim.

At last, they heard fast steps. The Jarl jerked and got up, awaiting the eavesdropper with great anticipation. The rest of the officers awoke and sat up properly in their chairs. Only the steward seemed disappointed, being interrupted in his speech.

"My Jarl!" a voice was heard as a young man entered the door. "News from the Moot!"

"What did they say?!" the Jarl yelled. "Tell me now!" he ordered as he hit the table with his fists.

The poor young man had to catch his breath, but the Jarl's determined and angry eyes made him nervous. Aurora thought that she recognised the youngster, but could not put her finger on it. She had met a lot of people, making it difficult to remember all the faces and names.

"Well... they are not against it, but there are some technicalities..." the young man began, unknowing of how to present the Jarl with the news.

"What is it?!" he spitted.

The young man looked around it the room and caught Aurora's gaze. She could swear on that they had encountered before, but the blond teenager did not react any differently to her than to the rest of the officers.

The woman looked at the Jarl whose face was glowing red of anger and frustration. The rest of her colleagues leaned forwards in their chairs, waiting for the youngster to explain.

"There is the question of legitimacy, my Jarl..." he mumbled.

"Shit!"

The Jarl hit the table with such a force that it moved it slightly to the side. The poor Officer next to him jerked nervously, and Galmar got up to his feet.

"Can't be! We should have them executed..." he began.

He came with the least helpful advice as always, Aurora thought. The General always chose the path of violence, even when it could and should be avoided to all costs. In reality, there was only one thing the Jarl could do if the question of legitimacy was raised.

"My Jarl, what are we going to do?" a dark-haired man next to Aurora asked.

All the eyes in the room were staring at the tall, blonde leader, whose face was turning red of anger. The man gritted his teeth as he looked towards the ceiling and sighed loudly.

"It is time to take a bride," the Jarl said, but then remained silent for a while and looked down on the table in front of him. The braids fell forwards, covering the sides of his face, but they did not manage to cover the fact that the Jarl was deeply disappointed and angry about his fate.

Some of the men sitting around the table exchanged confused looks with each other. They did not quite understand how the matter was relevant to what they discussed earlier, but Aurora knew – she only waited for the Jarl to say it out loud. She realised that from that moment, she would no longer be connected to him; she would no longer have any obligations towards the man. These were the last, tragic couple of moments of their relationship.

"Elisif," he then sighed.

"Are you insane?!" Galmar shouted in anger and left his chair.

The Jarl turned towards his General, raised a hand and gestured for him to sit down.

"I know that you might feel hesitant about..."

"Hesitant!? _Hesitant_?! We despise that milk drinker, that wimp..."

"That is what makes her a good wife of a High King. Hear me out!"

The General slowly obeyed the Jarl's orders and sat down, but his face showed no sign of calmness. The discussion may have been played out between Galmar and the Jarl, but the main focus of everyone else involved was on Aurora. For that, she felt very uncomfortable. The woman felt the burning, patronising gazes of the rest of the officers, and felt as if she wanted to fall through a hole in the floor. If there was something she could not stand, it was the condescending whispers and looks from others. It was not as if she would die of heartache for losing the Jarl. She had known that they would part at some point, and this was it.

"Elisif will not cause troubles, in fact she will be miserable, but the problem with my legitimacy will be solved if I take her as my spouse. There is still a strong support for the Empire in some of my subjects. Marrying Elisif will force them to recognise me as High King."

Suddenly, there was a silence. Galmar looked at Aurora, who did her best not to meet anyone's eyes. She uncomfortably gazed through the window, then at the table in front of her. Only after a while did she notice that even the Jarl was observing her. It hit her that they excepted for her to say something.

"I agree," she said whilst confusingly throwing gazes around the room.

As she did so, a gasp went through the meeting. Only the Steward seemed not to notice the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"As that is now taken cared of, we have questions regarding an heir," he said whilst opening a new container of quill.

"Yes, my Jarl," a man said. "There are rumours that Elisif in unable to bear children as her marriage to Torygg did not produce heirs..."

Suddenly, it was if the Jarl exploded. He looked up on the man who uttered the words with such an irritation and fury that it probably scared even the toughest of the officers. His face was glowing red and the veins on his temples were pulsating angrily.

"This meeting is over," he gritted through his teeth. "You are free to leave."

"But, my Jarl..."

"Leave!" he demanded.

The men around Aurora got up, and she followed suit. She saw Galmar approaching the Jarl, but he gestured for him to follow the others out. Therefore, the woman decided against staying and quickly gathered her papers and set foot towards the door. The Dragonborn was the last one to exit as the Jarl took a firm grip of her arm and pulled her closer to him. He waited for a moment before the rest of the group was far enough away and closed the door.

"Aurora, you may be angry, but you know that Skyrim needs stability right now," he said with a tone that oozed of sadness and regret. He stood right in front of her, but did not touch her, not even putting his hands around her shoulders. "This is not the time to question the role of a supporting Queen. Besides, imagine the catastrophe if you would die in battle. Elisif will never put herself in a dangerous situation."

"I know," was all she could say. The woman felt completely blank, there was no emotions at all, just acceptance.

The Jarl was even less keen on showing his feelings. He merely looked upon her patronisingly and bowed his head.

"Aurora, if I had a choice... I'm sorry."

She had accepted that a long time ago and held no sorrow in her heart for her own sake. It did, however, weigh her down to know that the Jarl would spend the rest of his life in a loveless union. That was the price to pay for a royal, regardless of gender or position. Royal marriages were nothing but politics, and even though it was a personal choice of his, the woman could not help but to feel sorry for him.

The very reason for her departure from Cyrodiil had been an imposed marriage, so she knew exactly how the man felt. The difference was that she had the possibility to escape – but Skyrim needed their King, meaning that the Jarl's fate was sealed.

"My Jarl, I am fine..." she began.

The Jarl took her hand and held it in his for a few moments with his head bowed and avoiding eye contact.

"Forgive me."

* * *

The cup was filled to the edge, but not for too long. As the woman brought it to her lips, half of its substance poured into her mouth. She swallowed and made a grimace. The ale was a lot bitterer than she was used to, but it was the only thing available in town at the moment. The trade wagons had not been able to complete their journey due to the risks involved, and the other towns of Skyrim were too far away for anyone to transport drinks into the capital.

The Jarl had ordered for the Emperor's chamber to be temporarily converted into a drinking hall for the Stormcloak officers, but it was seldomly used. The soldiers generally preferred the local inn, making the hall a perfect spot for being alone. However, that night, Aurora was not alone. In fact, it happened to be so that most of her colleagues were gathered there with her, drinking, conversing and singing.

Being the only female officer, Aurora got the attention she neither desired nor searched for. A big, brown-haired Nord came up to her with yet another bottle of ale. She did not pay much attention to him, but he did not seem to get the wink. Instead, he sat down next to her.

"Hey. I'm Istar Cairn-Breaker, head of the Haafingar camp."

"I'm..." Aurora began and turned to face the man, but jerked as she did so. "Stormblade..."

Aurora had never truly been shocked when she saw scars on faces before. Neither had she ever cared about missing limbs or strange illnesses, but this time, she could not help herself. The man had a very strange right eye. He had a scar across it, and not across as over the eyelid, but right _in the middle_ of the damn thing.

The man did not seem offended by Aurora's rude stare, but smiled instead and pointed at it.

"I got in a fight whilst out drinking once. A big guy with a knife. Scarred me so badly, that I ended up like this."

"That's lovely," she answered, slightly disgusted.

It was way too late for her to see the horrors of violence. Besides, she had no intention of letting the man believe that he had any chance on her. It would only cause rumours, the last thing she needed at that given moment.

"So..." the man began. "I heard things with you and the Jarl... I thought I might..."

"Great. Now I'll just go..." she began whilst looking for the nearest exit with a confused look.

Many young women threw himself over the Jarl, and he did indeed bed a few of them. Aurora did not mind it at all as she saw it as a clear indication of their... relationship to be over. It had been since that fateful meeting, but taking other women to his chamber would break any ties he had with Aurora, and the Jarl probably felt that too. The atmosphere between them was tense, and they did not speak much.

Aurora was thinking of what to do with her life as she descended the stairs. Those meetings were not her cup of tea at all, and being forced to handle the budget for the restoration of the city's walls was beyond any boredom she had ever experienced before. It was not just boring, but also challenging. Being a girl from a poor family meant that she never got a higher education, which would be helpful when leading larger projects like this. She had the potential, but learning everything so quickly and not being allowed to make any mistakes was stressful to her.

She had adapted slightly when it came to her tasks in battle, though. Even if it was only for about four or five minutes, she had managed to lead a smaller division in the army. Aurora was growing into her role, but still felt that being an Officer was not for her. She did not like to tell the soldiers what to do, but instead preferred when they all knew what to do themselves. This was not what was required to lead the Companions. The systems were completely different. She needed not stand in front and cheer them on or yell out orders in a hectic battle. She could be a leader, but not in the way the Jarl advocated.

Thinking of the trolls. As she left the building, she noticed the familiar silhouette of the Jarl. He walked towards her rather quickly, but she could not see his face in the darkness.

"Met any athletic young men?" he asked directly.

"Em, no..." she answered with a wrinkled forehead.

"There are loads of young soldiers who would do everything to please you in bed."

She was not up to it at all, and frankly, she found his cold tone rather strange and unpleasant.

"Thank you, my Jarl," the woman answered and made a curtsey. Just as she was about to leave, she suddenly felt a warm hand on hers.

"I've arranged for you and Galmar to meet Elisif."

"I'll inform her," Aurora nodded.

"Oh, and don't tell her about our... _history_."

"I had no intention to, _my Jarl_, even if it feels like it couldn't have escaped anyone by now."


	22. Two Kings, one Country

"I recognise you," were the words that coldly greeted Aurora as she entered the room.

The Dragonborn did not bow her head; instead, she jerked it slightly upwards. She could not help but to feel anger towards the Jarl of Solitude – Elisif did not deserve a man like the leader of the Stormcloaks, the woman was too weak and frail to match the temperament and strength of Ulfric. Elisif would become nothing more than a leech on the man's wellbeing, and for that, Aurora would not forgive the woman in front of her.

Galmar was not too happy either, but he did not have to fight the emotional battle Aurora suffered. The old man walked up to the window and began to inspect the curtains, by that demonstrating his disagreement to what was about to occur. Even if Aurora appreciated his view on the situation, she still felt annoyed about the fact that she would have to handle it mostly on her own.

"We've met at an embassy party," she answered, trying to keep a neutral tone. "Briefly."

Elisif turned her head towards Galmar, but was blinded by the bright light of the sun that beamed through the window as she did so, forcing her to close her eyes. As the Jarl's face was highlighted by the light, Aurora could not help but to realise that Elisif was rather attractive. She was not an absolute beauty, but her innocent look made her appear very feminine, and the Dragonborn could clearly see why many men fell for that. She quickly thought of her own, scarred body and broken smile, and even if she knew that the Jarl and soon-to-be High King preferred strong warriors, it still gave her inferiority complexes. Her Jarl would marry a woman with a pretty face, but not much else. Had only she been from a good family and presentable appearance, she could have been the one standing by the Jarl. Not that it was what she wanted, but it would have felt good to have the opportunity.

"Oh, yes. I remember," Elisif said. "You caused quite a stir."

Aurora remembered how she had escaped the Thalmor embassy, chased by the angry elves, and laughed.

"Thank you," she said whilst covering her mouth with her left hand, knowing that it was inappropriate to act the way she did at that given moment.

Elisif, probably upset about her situation, did not find it amusing at all. In fact, her annoyed gaze was set at the woman in front of her. The eyebrows were wrinkled and her arms crossed.

"It wasn't a compliment," the Jarl stated.

_Well, never mind then, you tedious bitch_, Aurora thought, but quickly shut her mouth. Had Elisif not been the one forming the Jarl's destiny as High King, Aurora would have bitten back, but for Ulfric's sake, Aurora would suffer. The comment stung, though, and the woman could not tell if she would be able to live with that on a daily basis. Once more, she began to feel that her time in Solitude was coming to an end.

Whilst Aurora drifted away into her own thoughts, Galmar took the matter into his own hands.

"I'm here on behalf of the King. He proposes a union," the old bear stated, as straightforward as always.

"Do I have a choice?" Elisif asked rhetorically.

"Not really," Aurora answered with a provocative tone.

"Then why is he asking?" the woman snorted and looked away.

Her face was bearing traces of sadness, and Aurora enjoyed it. If Elisif would be the one making the Jarl's private life a misery, it was only right that she would give up happiness too. Wimps deserved little, but royal wimps even less, according to Aurora. She had to give up on so much for what she had, and it would be unfair if others were just given what she had fought so hard for.

Galmar, on the other hand, did not exactly know what to answer on such a question. With a confused look, he sought help from the Dragonborn's diplomatic skills. It would be untactical to anger Elisif too much.

"It's the proper thing to do as you are noble..." Aurora began, not being too sure about what to say.

"I'm more than that," Elisif hissed. "I'm royal."

"My sincere pardons," Aurora said whilst bowing her head, gritting her teeth as she did so.

"Tell the Jarl that I agree to his proposal," Elisif sighed and gestured to Aurora and Galmar to leave the chamber.

* * *

"Murderer."

"Oh hush. That was long ago, aren't we past that, wife?" the Jarl said with a smug expression.

Aurora could not be in a more awkward position. The Jarls of Windhelm and Solitude stood shoulder-to-shoulder, whispering insults to one another whilst the officers formed a half-circle behind them. The Dragonborn tried to hide behind her former lover, but he had insisted on that she would take the place behind him on his left side (Galmar took the same spot but on the right side).

"I am not marrying you out of respect or love," the woman hissed with her forehead wrinkled and an angry gaze.

"No, you marry me because that is what I ordered!" Ulfric exclaimed, causing a slight echo in the large hall, which was mainly built out of stone. "You do so because you preferred to live a comfortable life as Queen than to die a honourable death together with your subjects," he continued with a more decent tone.

Aurora looked to the left, waiting for the massive doors to open and the old men to walk in. This was nerve wrecking. The next few moments would determine the faith of Skyrim and all of her people. A spy had informed them that the Moot had not reached consensus, and everyone in the hall hoped that the news of the formation of a union between Ulfric and Elisif would make the Moot members change their minds.

"I am a woman! The frontline is not a place for..."

"That's where you are wrong. My toughest soldier is a woman," Ulfric informed his fiancé whilst looking at Aurora. "I believe you two have met."

The Dragonborn could feel a burning, inspecting stare for a few moments before the Queen-to-be turned towards Ulfric.

"My values still stand."

"Of course they do, you are a wimp. An honourless milkdrinker. Just because you are weak, mentally and physically, doesn't mean that all women are. In fact, a Nord woman should be able to defend herself and her family with a sword, would it be necessary. Such are our lands."

The Jarl said so whilst still looking at his former lover with a smile. It touched Aurora, and she was happy to be reminded of the fact that the Jarl preferred her out of all the women – regardless of her scars and slightly masculine body.

"You have lived an all too comfortable life, dear," the Jarl continued. "Most Nords live beyond the walls, being at risk of bears, giants, bandits..."

Suddenly, he was interrupted by a loud bang. The door had opened, and members representing all the different parts of Skyrim entered. They were all older men with long, red kaftans and white details. Some required a stick to walk, others showed signs of bad eyesight or hearing. These were to determine the faith of the lands she held so dearly, the Dragonborn thought. Even Ulfric feared what they had to say, and it made her feel rather uncomfortable. She generally did not like men with that much authority since their minds often were corrupted by power, internal conflicts and gold.

Before anyone had time to react properly, Ulfric stepped forward and opened his arms to greet the Moot, putting on a false smile.

"We have good news, _your graces_. We have decided to put our differences to the side and focus on what is of importance in this situation – Skyrim and her peoples' wellbeing. To further prove our loyalty to our nation, we have decided to unite not only in politics, but also in marriage."

A silent whisper went through the gathering. Neither one of them had expected the Jarl to be so straightforward, nor utter the words he just had. Aurora observed the old men and their reaction, but could not tell if it would change whatever they had decided to do about a High King.

"Being the man I am, I shall have the main responsibility, but my future wife will of course be guaranteed to have her way with certain aspects..." the Jarl continued.

"You will voluntarily share the power?" a frail, but rather determined voice asked.

"Um... No, that wasn't..."

A white haired man with a hunchback stepped forward as to inspect the two candidates, causing a loud _dong_ as he moved his stick. He did not have much charisma, but the Jarls seemed to respect him enough to straighten their backs and remain silent.

"The Moot has heard of your proposal to the Jarl of Solitude, but is concerned about your real intentions, _Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak_. The Moot is afraid that Jarl Elisif will be reduced to supporting Queen, rather than your equal."

The officers around Aurora seemed puzzled, and so did Ulfric.

"That _is_ the role of the High King's partner, _your grace_. That _is_ the way our traditions dictate..." he began.

"The Moot could not fully support either one of you as candidates. There is no consensus, something that mirrors the opinion of Skyrim's people."

"I see..." the Jarl began.

"The best solution would of course be if both sides would come to an agreement, and the Moot is very pleased that you have tried to do so. As a matter of fact, your proposal is close to fulfilling all of our demands – the easiest and best resolution."

Once more, the Dragonborn looked at the group of dying, corrupted men, but this time she saw something. There was some sort of power struggle between the members of the Moot that they tried to hide. Some of them were still loyal to the Empire, Aurora thought, but there was not much Ulfric could do if they offered a compromise. It would be to go too far to question the Moot's decision, and Ulfric knew that. He had already stretched peoples' patience to the breaking point, and every action he took from now would be watched very carefully. What it meant was that the Moot would have their way, and even if many members wished for Ulfric to be High King, they would not upset the Emperor more than necessary.

"I agree to your terms," Elisif said neutrally. She did not seem to fully understand what immense power it gave her, Aurora thought. It would imply that the High King would be unable to make any decisions if she openly opposed them.

"Fine," Ulfric spitted.

* * *

At dusk, Aurora sat on a bench at the balcony, overlooking the town. The sky was as magically pink as when she had reached Whiterun for the first time. She had been thinking about it a lot lately, and realised that her heart longed for it more than ever before. It was her home, her real home. The Dragonborn longed for Jorrvaskr's warm hall where her belly would always be filled with mead and meat after a long trip, to the underground sleeping quarters where the new bloods tried to impress one another with bear claws and sabre cat teeth they had taken from the animals they had slayed. She longed for the warm welcome she always got from Tilma and the help Brill offered when she needed something.

Most of all, she missed Vilkas. Over a year had passed since she left Whiterun to help Vex and Vipir escape Windhelm, and after leaving town to join the Blades, the woman had suppressed the pain from having her heart broken. The sky reminded her of the people and home she left behind, and old emotions emerged again. Vilkas, her beloved Vilkas – how she hated the man for causing her so much pain. He was the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to her, and she did not know whether to thank or curse him for it.

The more she thought about it all, the more she began to realise that she was in the wrong place. Solitude was not for her. It was a city of destruction and war, of power struggles and deceit. The only thing she liked about it was the future High King. Aurora felt a strong tenderness and respect towards the man, but it would soon not be enough for holding her there. The more time he would spend with his wife and subjects, the less he would have for her, and the last week had showed that this was the case. The only time they spoke was when sitting around a table with the rest of the officers, something Aurora hated.

The woman had gone so deep into her own thoughts that she did not notice how the Jarl had appeared, but once she did, her state of mind changed very suddenly.

"I can not believe it. Two Kings for one country, that is not the way of our lands. I can not understand why the Moot would suggest such a thing."

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him with disappointment. Aurora had been in a state of beautiful melancholy, and the Jarl was going on about how he "lost" his crown.

"The Moot had to compromise, and this was the result. There was really only one way to solve the succession crisis," she answered coldly.

The man gritted his teeth and sat down next to her. As soon as he did that, Aurora noticed that he smelled differently. She could not tell exactly what scent it was, but it sure was not his. The woman observed Ulfric carefully, but he was too deep inside of his own thoughts to notice. His disappointment was very evident, and she could understand him. He had not expected to not only be forced to wed her, but also to have a wife with power.

"She's dumb as a giant and weak as a toddler", he complained. "I have no respect for such a person, man or woman. And now she will have the power to interfere in politics."

"But she probably won't. Elisif only wishes for a comfortable life. Give her servants to keep her happy, and I doubt that she will protest against your governance," Aurora comforted him.

As she had opened her mouth, the Jarl looked directly at her with great sadness in his eyes.

"It is terrible not having you around."

"My King, I _am_ around..."

"Not at night."

Her heart nearly stopped as he spoke those words. She had longed for his company, and felt relieved that it was mutual. Her body asked and begged for her to kiss him, but the woman tried to control the impulse.

"It wouldn't be right," she began.

"No, it wouldn't", he sighed. "But you have no obligations anymore. Tell me, is there someone in your life?"

"My King, I spend all of my time performing tasks you command me to. Who could there possibly be?" she asked and gave him a broken smile.

"I must admit that it is music to my ears to hear you say that. Although, you will probably marry some day."

"I am not so sure about that anymore," she said and turned her gaze towards the sky again, closing her eyes after a few seconds.

She saw him in front of her. She remembered every part of his characteristic face and body, and began to shiver as the pain grew stronger within her. The woman felt very distanced from the situation she was in and submerged into her own world again. The calm, harmonic sorrow took her away once more, shielding her from the reality.

"Why?" she heard a distant voice.

"There is a man I love with my whole heart and soul, but I cannot have him, and I've accepted it now. A part of me says it is better to be alone than with the wrong person, even if my body aches for company."

"You love him?"

"Yes."

She was tearful when she opened her eyes and saw the end of the sunset. The beauty of the lands in front of her mesmerised her, and made the woman feel empty and out of words. When at last she turned her gaze towards the man next to her, he moved his right hand across his face as to wipe something away. Aurora did not utter a word, but merely nodded as to say that things were good as they were.


	23. The Royal Mistress

Within a week, the wedding had been arranged. Nobles from the neighbouring lands and all over Skyrim were invited in haste. The Blue Palace was decorated with flowers and fabrics, and people were running around all day long, doing their job. As soon as the couple were wed, the Moot declared Ulfric High King, and his spouse High Queen. Aurora had seen the new King during a few meetings, and he had been equally annoyed each time. Elisif disappeared from the public life as soon as the members of the Moot returned home, but the Dragonborn had seen her once or twice, and she looked even more miserable than her husband.

Aurora realised that Elisif was falling into a depression; she could see the signs as she had experienced it herself not too long ago. Even if she disliked the woman for being a milkdrinker and hated her for making a person Aurora loved unhappy, she could not help but to feel sorry for her.

There was a custom in the royal family that when a King or Prince was married off, Noble representatives and high-ranking militaries would be present during the consummation of the marriage to ensure the offspring that the Queen or Princess bore was in fact the husband's. Aurora found this very degrading, especially since the marriages most often were political ones, bearing no traces of love or commitment. This case was even worse as the husband and wife hated one another, and Ulfric saw it as an opportunity to degrade and punish Elisif.

The Queen was not a maiden as she had been married and gone through this procedure before, and the chambermaids must have warned her about Ulfric's fondness for rough sex, but he had been wilder with Elisif than Aurora had ever seen him. He did everything in his power to make his wife feel humiliated and submissive. The Dragonborn had left by the time the King grasped Elisif's arms and pressed them against the headboard whilst violently thrusting, causing her to cry out in pain, but she had overheard the officers discussing the topic and was shocked to learn what Ulfric had done that night. This was of course forbidden, but the desire to tell their friends was too strong for many of the Nobles. Aurora was disgusted to hear a man in his mid-forties tell another that he would try some of the things he had seen in the royal chamber with his young wife.

The woman could not completely understand why he did it, but thought it had something to do with the Great War. Who knew what perverted things he had seen as a young lad? Rape was a common tool some soldiers used to shame a woman of another race, and many elf/human children had been born in the aftermath of the war. These were often seen as a disgrace and were hidden away from society. Being from a poor family, Aurora had known of some places in the Imperial City where these by then young adults worked, hidden from the rest of the society. Her own uncle had once brought one of them to work on his farm, causing a scandal by letting the boy sleep in the house and not outside with the animals. Perhaps Ulfric took revenge on Elisif by forcing his wife to submit herself to his will. Aurora did not like the thought at all, but chose not to judge him too hard. War corrupted most souls; she knew that from her own experience. Never had she had an easy time to kill before fighting Alduin. She had always stroked for the shoulders or legs, but after gaining a lot of physical strength after months of tomb exploring and dragon fighting, Aurora was now hitting for the chest or head when duelling.

The anger she felt for Elisif before was almost gone by then. Nowadays, Aurora almost pitied her. Not everyone had the strength to oppose a doomed marriage, and they were forced to suffer for it. Elisif had obligations to fulfil, and a woman's role was never easy – especially if her husband had his own ideas of how to treat his spouse. Now everyone expected her to give birth to an heir, and many thought that Ulfric would not be merciful until that moment came. The faster she would become pregnant, the better for everyone involved. Elisif would get rid of the nightly visits from her husband, and Ulfric would have his heir, Aurora thought.

It felt strange to be pushed away like that. After all, Aurora still regarded Ulfric as a close friend and mentor. A marriage could not have a profound impact on that. He had helped her through a lot, and for that, she would remain forever grateful towards him. He probably suffered too, she thought. The moment they shared a week ago was beautiful and had stuck in her memory ever since.

She visited the balcony on a daily basis, overlooking the town and hoping to find the courage to leave, but there was something holding her back. It was as if she was not completely finished with this chapter of her life, even though she knew that she still had unfinished business with Alduin and the Jarl of Whiterun. The woman spent most of her time trying to figure out what she needed to say to Ulfric before she could completely let him go.

Aurora was afraid of what awaited her in Whiterun. She could not even imagine what her first words to Vilkas would be, and she dreaded finding out. What would she tell him after all that time? She was not even sure that he was the same person she had left a year ago. Many things could have occurred during those thirteen fateful months.

There was also that awkward fact that she had abandoned her responsibilities as Harbinger, and Aurora did not know how the dynamics had changed in Jorrvaskr lately. On the other hand, she could not care less if Aela or Vilkas had stepped up and taken her place, she could not blame them if they had.

He appeared in front of her again. The morning breeze carried his scent from the stairs towards the balcony, filling Aurora's nostrils with the familiar smell of a loved one. It appeared as if he had been looking for her, for his gaze seemed almost desperate. His eyes were red of tiredness, but his body language was rather determined.

"My King," Aurora curtseyed. "Rough night?" she asked as neutrally as she could.

"The worst", the King laughed. "She was sobbing. Couldn't sleep a minute because she just wouldn't shut up."

It was not just the physical distance that had grown lately. Aurora felt emotionally detached from the King, even though she could not completely let him go. He acted strangely around her, but she did not pay much attention to it, for she just did not care as much as she would have a year ago. The last thing she wished for was for the atmosphere between them to become tense and decided to temporarily embrace her playful side.

"Well, you don't seem to have an issue with performance," she teased him.

Suddenly a strange but honest smile spread across his face. The man placed his hands on her waist and spun her around like a youngling would. The woman laughed happily as he did so and threw her head back, letting her hair fly. For a moment, a sheer moment, she felt a tickling sensation in her stomach and happiness in her heart, but as soon as the man put her down, it disappeared as quickly as it had emerged.

"Not with you. Ever," he said with a broad, genuine smile.

"Guard your tongue, _my King_!" Aurora laughed and placed her hand in front of her mouth in a lightly flirtatious manner. "Someone might hear us."

Suddenly, he pressed her closer to him, and she felt his lips hungrily touching hers. Being completely unprepared for the turn of events, she did not know what to do. With her eyes open, she remained still for a moment before pushing him away.

"My King..." she began.

He interrupted her by placing a warning finger on her lips and hushing her.

"Please, one last time," he said with the same, strange smile.

_No_, she thought. It was not what she wanted, for it would confuse her further, and for once, the woman felt as if she only had minor issues with herself. If she would just realise what caused her to stay in Solitude, she would be ready to begin a new chapter of her life, and Aurora needed no delays.

"You are married..." she sighed.

* * *

"Oh Gods, I had forgotten how good it was with you," he said and put a protective arm around her shoulders.

Oh Gods, she had forgotten how easy she was to persuade. The woman lay on his shoulder and listened to Ulfric's heartbeat, but felt that this was the wrong path to take. Her body ached for his company, but her mind told her that he was the wrong person to share herself with. It was more a question of being used to one another than having romantic feelings, Aurora figured. They had lived and survived many difficult moments of fear and alienation together, and that was bound to leave a connection between a man and a woman. The King, however, did not seem to notice her inner conflict.

"My darling girl," he said and stroke her hair.

His voice was deep and completely calm. Usually, it would be enough for Aurora to feel safe and secure, but this time, there was something missing. The woman became increasingly frustrated about her situation. The more information she got, the more it confused her. So the King missed her company, but why had he been avoiding her? On the other hand, it did not impact her own feelings as much as it made it more difficult for her to find a solution to chose a new path to take.

"Be my lover."

The woman had been deep inside of her own world, and not fully paid attention to the King's gentle touch, his loving gaze and calm breathing. Therefore, his last words came as a complete surprise to her. Without thinking, she turned away from him and felt the cold floor with her bare feet. Aurora brushed her hair away from the face and took a deep breath.

"You have a wife to think of, my King," she spoke, trying to hide the shock she felt.

Still without looking at the man, she got up and reached for her tunic and pants. Ulfric was also preparing for a new day, based on the sound of him getting out of bed. The woman braided her hair and began to buckle the armour into place.

"Kings have always had their mistresses," the man said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"And their consorts?" she asked as she pulled on her boots.

"Have always accepted it. To be honest, I think Elisif would be happier if I didn't visit her chamber at nights. She cries all the time, it's unbearable," he almost laughed.

How odd. He acted as if there was nothing strange between them at all. In fact, he acted as if they were fully comfortable around one another – like a couple. The thought of it scared her. Ulfric had never acted as openheartedly as he did now, dropping the guard. To see her leader as a normal human with his weaknesses showing was hard for her. It felt as if he needed her on a very private and emotional level, and it made her think even more about the fact that her heart belonged to another man.

The woman did not remember how she reached the dining hall or how they had departed. The King seemed very joyful and marched towards the table with his hands raised. The people (Aurora did not pay attention to whether if they were Nobles or military) around him stood up. There must have been at least five dozen of them, but the Dragonborn could not leave her own world.

_Morning, my King _was heard all over the hall.

"Had a good night?" Galmar's voice spoke.

A hard bang on the table forced Aurora's gaze towards the end of the table. The King stood up and spread his arms, and for once, she recognised the man she knew. His cheekiness and arrogance was written in his face just as he was about to say something.

"Good night?! Was it a good night?" he rhetorically asked and looked around. "Of course it was! I fucked the Empire tonight. Thrice!"

A laughter and cheers were heard from his subjects, and even Aurora smiled slightly before searching for the Queen. She stood by a pillar not too far from the Dragonborn, and even if it did not hurt her the slightest that her husband had an affair, the humiliation was undignified. Aurora's smile died out as she saw the other woman and began to feel for her. It was not charming or tongue-in-cheek of Ulfric anymore. It was childish of him to rub it in her face.


	24. From Solitude to Camaraderie

"I have a new request for you," he whispered heavily in her ear.

Aurora arched her back slightly and gave him a honest smile, continuing to kiss his neck, taking in his scent. She was close to her climax and therefore wished for the King to shut his mouth. The woman groaned slightly and raised her head.

"Is this the time to bring that up?" she complained.

Continuing to thrust, the King suddenly became more tense, a clear indication that he too was close. It made Aurora very aware of the situation, and she began to drift away from relaxation into sudden awareness. It was her duty to herself as a woman to ensure that no accidents happened, so she began to slightly push the King away.

"There isn't a better one," he groaned heavily.

Very suddenly, he stopped. He usually did not, so it surprised Aurora who was used to warn him multiple times before the man gave in and pulled out. This time, he smiled like a fool, looking into her eyes and softly caressing her cheek with his right hand. It was the calmness before a storm, but nothing could prepare the woman for the words the King uttered.

"Bear me a child."

Aurora was shocked, and the fact that the King suddenly began to thrust harder than ever did not exactly help the situation. He was reaching the edge, and it was as if a brick wall just hit the woman hard in the face. Aurora panicked and felt that she had to do something.

"No!" she screamed and pushed the man away with such a brute force that he landed on his back by the woman's feet. Without thinking, she grabbed the bedcover and dragged it up to cover her naked breasts. Her hair was a mess, and so was her focus. It would take a while to recover and calm down, and she knew she probably would have to explain her reaction, but on the other hand – the King was as guilty as she was, if not more.

"Oh, yes, I might owe you an explanation," the King finally spoke.

He sat up, completely uncovered. Aurora forbade her eyes to wander and turned her gaze towards the door on the opposite side of the room. She bit her lip and put her head in her right hand, shaking it as if she could not believe the situation she was in.

"It would be appreciated," the woman distantly stated.

"Well, I married that... but I will not touch her. I hate her, Aurora." The man lowered his head as if to search for Aurora's gaze. "But my country needs an heir."

The woman's thoughts began to clear up as the initial shock passed. An overwhelming, sudden sense of aversion stormed over her, but the woman tried to calm down. Too often had she been to quick to judge a situation and ended up hurting noone but herself before. She could not imagine a good explanation, but decided to give the King a chance.

"Why me?" she asked and wrinkled her forehead.

The King had a strange smile on his face and seemed completely sincere and relaxed as he sat on the bed with his arms gathered in front of him. His gaze became somewhat distant, as if he imagined something quite extraordinarily good.

"Because I want my firstborn to be like us."

A chuckle was all Aurora could force herself to accomplish. The King had gone too far, but she could not understand why this suddenly happened. She had not given any obvious signs to him that she wished for something like this to happen, had she?

The King came closer to her and gripped her wrists, still smiling like the fool he was. Aurora let him for about a second before pushing him away again and taking all the cover to drape her body. This action made the man slightly worried, it could be seen in the way he moved. He streched for her once again.

"I was forced to give up happiness with you for..."

"No, Ulfric," she interrupted him and flew up. Her feet touched the floor a moment later. "It was _you_ who started the civil war. Had you just accepted the Empire's rule, we could have lived in Windhelm as Jarl and his wife. But you would not have been happy before Skyrim was freed. And as High King, you have to prioritise the country over yourself."

"Correct," the man said and crossed his arms, looking up on the woman in front of him. "And now I will do the best out of the situation. You are the perfect mother for my heir..."

"I am not a mother, I am a warrior," she interrupted him again.

"Don't pretend like you aren't hurt!" he exclaimed and got up on his knees. "I know that you would give much to be my wife. I know that you love me as much as I love you, and I know that it hurts for you to see Elisif by my side."

"What are you saying? I never spoke of such unbreakable love for you!" Aurora nervously stated.

Well, at least she hoped she had not. The woman began to run all the recent memories through her head, but she could find nothing that would cause the man to open his heart in a way like this. She felt that the situation was growing increasingly uneasy, and her instincts told her to run.

"You did! Before I took Elisif as my bride..."

The King looked at her with hurt. Never before had she seen it as clearly. When at last she realised which moment had given him this idea, she began to feel guilty. She had not told him about Vilkas, how would he then know that it was not him the woman loved? Her anger calmed and she opened her mouth to give him the final blow. It would take all her strength to explain it to the man she had admired and lived with for such a long time.

"No. No. My King, with all due respect..." she began with a heavy heart.

"You have my heart, Aurora. And when we go to Sovngarde, we will unite, even if we can't in this life."

The man spoke as if to calm her, but Aurora guessed it was more for himself. The intensity of the words rocked her very foundation, for she knew of the pain she would cause him. Had. It was decided a long time ago. There was never another option, and neither one of them should forget that.

Aurora remembered how she had ran from Vipir more than two years ago because of his attachment for her. The Fleet had soon forgotten her, but the woman knew the same would not be the case with Ulfric. She could clearly see that they could have made a good, stable couple, but apparently they were not destined to be. She could learn to love the King like a wife should, given enough time. The problem was that she did not want for that to happen, for she had no intention living as his mistress in a castle, far away from danger and adventure. No, the life of a nobility was not a life for her.

Aurora tried to gather her words. Her mind told her to run, but the King, if anyone deserved her honisty. This time and every time in the future, she would be sincere towards her lover and partner, even if it was difficult. No one deserved to be thrown away like litter and left. For the first time in her lifetime, she would inform her lover about her departure.

"I'm leaving, Ulfric. I can't take on the role of the person you wish me to be." She dared not look him in the eyes, for she was afraid of what was there to see.

"Leaving?" she heard.

The woman took a deep breath before emptying her heart. A year of frustration came over her at once as she was given the oppertunity to inform her lover of how he had wronged her, how unfair life had been and how much she missed the calmer times. Her heart began to race, but it was a pleasant sensation, and she finally found the courage inside of her.

"There are so many reasons, Ulfric. I'm no mother, I'm a warrior. And I've grown tired of this war, I've grown tired of bending my will for it to fit into yours. Then there is the Aludin issue... I just want to go back home."

How strange. All those feelings fit into a few sentences. It felt as if a stone had been taken from her heart and shoulders. This was the moment she had been waiting for, she thought. She was done here now, and she could close this chapter of her life and carry on. Her book was planned for what was to come, and Aurora felt overjoyed about the fact that she would finish yet another one that had been left without an ending for such a long time.

"Your home is here," the King said. This time his tone was different. It was cold.

"No, my home is in Whiterun. It's in Jorrvaskr. You can call for me if the Dominion attacks, and I will come."

Aurora remembered her undressed state, but the blanket was filling its purpose. She began to plan what to do next, she saw it in front of her how she would run to her chamber and gather her belongings, how she would walk out of the castle into the night. It would be a long trip from Solitude to Whiterun, but she would make it and she would make it on foot with a fool's smile on her face. She would then walk into Jorrva... No, she thought. She would not let herself be carried away.

"I can't understand you! You have a man who loves you with his whole heart right here. A King, for that matter! It appears as if I can't order you anything, so I'm asking for you to stay."

Aurora felt the strongest sympathy for Ulfric, but her mind was set. The only thing she could do for him was to let him tell her about his hurt and frustration. Perhaps it was for the best that he was angry with her, at least that would make it all easier for him.

"And be what? Your mistress? What have I done to deserve such a shame?"

"Shame? Shame?!"

"Yes, my King! People will always whisper evil things of me when I walk into chambers and halls. I will be proclaimed as the dirty wench that sleeps with the Queen's husband. And when you will grow tired of me, I will have no place here anymore. I am a warrior! I am Dragonborn! I shall not be reduced to a mere mistress."

"Well what do you want, Aurora?!" he asked with an annoyed tone. "Shall I proclaim my marriage null and void, is that what you want? Shall I give up on everything that I've fought for to please you?"

"No. I don't want you, _my King_. I am sick and tired of always pleasing you. I am tired of being called by my name whilst you are referred to by your epithet. I am tired of taking orders – as Harbinger and Dragonborn, _I_ am the one who is in command."

Her own words shocked her slightly, but she realised those were true. Once again, a sense of joy came over her, but the woman tried to surpress them. This was not the time or place to think of herself.

"You love me not at all," the King stated. His tone was cold, but even he could not hide the pain and frustration behind a wall of ice and self-awarness.

"I will forever remain grateful for your support and guidance, but you do not have my heart."

"Everyone in Skyrim knows you were my mistress. He won't take you back."

"It is none of your concern, it is for me to survive."


	25. The Unfolding of a new Adventure

The moment she opened the door, an overwhelming sensation of warmth hit her. At last, she was home. The woman only needed to cast a quick gaze around the hall to remember the woodwork, red textiles and the homely fire. How she loved this house, her first permanent home since leaving the Imperial City, a place to which she could always come or flee to find company and shelter.

Aurora looked down on the floor. Wooden, praise the Gods! How she had grown tired of the castles' cold, hard stone. There was so much life in the wooden planks that covered the ground as opposed to the grey floor in Windhelm and Solitude. Not that she complained, the castles had been a great change from the tombs and caves she spent, what seemed as a lifetime, exploring. The main fact that made the woman's heart rush was that somewhere beneath these planks, a man was sleeping. Her man. Her beloved Vilkas.

She had spent so many nights imagining what she would tell him once they met again. At first, she would have begged for him to have her back. How distant those times were now, she thought and smiled slightly. What a fool she had been, what a milkdrinker. After a while, just after taking Solitude, she wanted for him to hear of her success. The woman wanted for him to know what a warrior she was and what she was able to accomplish once she had her mind set about something. She wanted to rub it in his face that he had lost a woman like her.

That time seemed far gone too. How strange. So much time spent planning, thinking, building scenarios. Yet once the fantasy became reality, all of that was gone. The only thing she wanted was to see him again, his beautiful, ice cold eyes, his sharp face and black hair. She wanted to find shelter in his strong, protective arms.

With the anticipation and eagerness of a child, she ran inside with her eyes set on the stairs. Aurora had been so quick to draw the conclusion that everyone was asleep that she had missed to spot the huntress who was sitting alone in a corner of the hall. Aela must have realised this, for she stood up and waved slightly with her hand.

"You're back," she stated.

Aurora turned her head to see a smiling huntress. The smile almost slapped her. How stupid she had been. There was no disdain or sarcasm to be found in Aela's gaze. She did not envy Aurora for her position. The Dragonborn was not prepared for this. It was always easier to be paranoid, to think that everyone turned against her when she needed them the most. She shook her head, disappointed over her own silliness that had hurt herself more than anyone else. Well, that was history by now. Aurora had grown and matured since leaving the Companions back then. She promised herself not to look back, but to focus on the bright future that awaited her and all of the shield-siblings.

"I am," Aurora answered with a grin.

"Forever?" the huntress asked, crossing her arms.

"To take my rightful place as Harbinger."

Aurora's smile reached from ear to ear, and so initially had Aela's. A short silence followed during which the two women stared at each other, thinking of something to say, each in her own thoughts.

"Where are the others?" Aurora asked to break the silence.

"Downstairs," the huntress answered and shook her head. "It's late, you know. You should go to bed too – it looks as if you've been travelling far."

"_All_ of them?"

Aurora could tell by the look of her shield-sister that it was not the case. She turned around to search for the man's greatsword, which he usually left leaning agains the wall close to the door leading out to the yard. It was not there, and neither was it anywhere else for what the Dragonborn could see.

"Aurora..."

"Tell me where he is!" she demanded. The woman began to feel the burning sensation of tears, but what hurt the most was to go from complete happiness to frustration in the matter of moments. Why and why could nothing be easy? Just one thing, that was all she asked for. Why could not just one thing go right in her life? Was it too much to beg for?

"He left for Morrowind five months ago..." Aela said with a concerned tone.

"Oh Gods..." was all Aurora could utter. She fell to her knees and hid her mouth in her hands.

"Calm down..." the huntress spoke and rushed to her shield-sibling's side. She took her in her arms and held her like a child. "I can't understand how you haven't figured it out yet. After you'd been gone for a few weeks and he started to realise you weren't coming back, he broke down. I've never seen him so quiet and melancholic before."

Oh Gods. Forgive her. Please forgive her. Please let Vilkas find peace at heart. He had loved her then, he really had! Aurora wanted to slap herself across the face. How stupid she had been, she should not have focused so much on herself, for it meant that she missed something important within Vilkas. A clue to why he behaved the way he did.

"He really hates me then," she cried.

"It is difficult for a man to see his beloved one in the arms of another, but the two of you belong together. For months, he had been putting off his journey, until he saw you again. Aurora... He has been trying his best to forget you for so long now."

"I... I came back hoping that I would find him here. I would beg for his forgiveness on my bare knees. I... I would gladly walk to the gates of Oblivion and beyond, had he just told me to. And when I finally get back here..." Aurora submerged into her own thoughts, but quickly shook her head. "I must find him."

Aurora, be realistic. He could be _anywhere_ by now, she thought, but as soon as the initial shock passed, she felt ready to go out in battle again. The price was too high not to, and the reward dearer than ever before. She dried her tears away and took a deep breath before getting up so quickly that Aela almost flew up with her.

"Where did he say he would cross the border?" she demanded to know.

"He did not leave us with any information..."

"Why did he have to go to Morrowind?" she asked with her eyebrows wrinkled. It was more of a neutral question, and she hoped that Aela would not see it as if Aurora did not trust her, but it would not really matter right now.

"He had been talking about it for a while. In fact, he's been speaking of it for years, but never had the time or energy to do it. But listen, it is a long journey. He can't be travelling very fast, and he is bound to leave traces. I recommend for you to start with Blacklight. It's just across..."

"I know. I've been to Morrowind before."

Aela seemed surprised, for she stood there with a completely blank expression, probably shocked by the other woman's reaction.

"Not in Blacklight, but I know where it is," Aurora explained.

Aela shook her head and smiled, as if to both complain at and praise the woman who had changed so much since their last encounter.

"Then go. Look at every inn, ask all farmers and guards you meet on the way. Go. Find him."

* * *

**The third novel (coming this summer) in the series will be called ****_The Adventures of a Dragonborn: The Morrowind Journey_****. A big thank you to all those great reviews, and thank you for following and reading this story. You readers give me inspiration. Once again, thank you.**


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